


Explorers

by hazyascent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Derek Hale, Adult Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Child Derek Hale, Child Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are Childhood Friends, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are Neighbors, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Sharing a Bed, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, childhood best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2020-10-30 04:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazyascent/pseuds/hazyascent
Summary: No matter how old you are and where life takes you - sometimes, all you ever need is the boy next door.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a story in which Stiles and Derek go around their whole lives with hearts floating above their heads for each other - an extended version of their acting like -
> 
> Derek - You’re adorable.  
Stiles - No, you’re adorable.  
Derek - No, you’re adorable.  
Stiles - No, YOU’RE adorable.
> 
> I don’t have children myself yet, so there may be things that a person with more first-hand experience would know, “that’s not possible” or “kids that age don’t do that,” but in this story, it is and they do, ha! I hope you enjoy! As the tags communicate, this is a fluffy happy story, so if you’re in the mood for Derek and Stiles being happy and making each other happy, then this might work for you. Thank you for any feedback as always!
> 
> [Posted 9/28/19]

Derek perches behind the short wooden fence separating his yard from the Stilinskis’ yard and watches the scene before him.

Mom is helping Miss Claudia into the passenger side of her car while Deputy John runs around like a maniac. Dad tries to calm him down, but everyone’s way too excited for that.

Derek holds Cora’s hand next to him, but she’s only three, so she can’t see over the fence no matter how hard she tries. She’s getting frustrated, so Derek walks them over to the sidewalk where the view is clearer. He follows all of the rules, though. He stays far from the Stilinskis’ driveway and doesn’t let go of Cora, even when she squirms.

Running out of the house with a duffel bag, Deputy John tosses it into the backseat of the car and climbs into the front. The Hales step aside and wave as Deputy John backs into the street and drives away.

“Oh geez,” Dad says. “Remember those days?”

Mom is really cheerful. “Like it just happened.”

Dad picks Cora up and holds her against his hip. “Yup. Three years flew by.”

“When they come back, they’ll have a baby?” Derek asks, looking up at Mom.

“Yes, Derek. They’ll have a little boy or little girl; they don’t know yet.”

Derek feels the eagerness swell up inside him, too. “And then I can play with the baby?”

Mom laughs. “After it gets a little older. It’ll be very small at first. You just have to be patient. Can you do that?”

Derek is a middle child and the only boy out of three kids, so of course he’s learned to be patient. “Uh-huh,” he nods. “I can do it.”

\-----

It’s a boy!

Derek is thrilled the next day when Mom gets off the phone and tells Dad the news. He loves his two sisters and they play together all the time, but it’ll be so fun to have a boy next door.

Like Mom said, he doesn’t get to see the baby for a while, but his parents go next door regularly. Sometimes they bring food with them, and other times they’re just there to help. Derek wants to go with them, but Mom says the baby is still too young to be around too many people. Miss Claudia and Deputy John are also really tired, so Derek has to wait. Even though he’d told his mom he could be patient, it’s getting really hard.

It feels like forever until Mom asks him if he’d like to go over, and he agrees before she’s even done talking. Finally!

The Stilinskis’ living room looks pretty different than the last time he was there, but Derek immediately notices the baby swing near the couch. “Don’t worry, he’s awake,” Miss Claudia says.

As Mom picks the baby up and away from him, Derek can’t help but frown. He sort of listens to what the adults are saying, but mostly he cranes his neck to look.

He hears the baby’s name a couple of times - a name unlike anything Derek has heard before. Back at their house, his parents have said it, but they don’t seem sure they’re pronouncing it right. It doesn’t sound that simple to Derek, but then again, he has sisters with easy names that rhyme.

“Would you like to hold him, too?” Miss Claudia asks.

Derek nods, his earlier crankiness completely forgotten. “Yes, please!”

“Come on, honey,” Mom says. “Sit on the couch and we’ll show you what to do.”

He clambers up quickly, sitting all the way back like his mom prompts.

“See how I’m holding him? His head goes right here, and I help him give it a place to rest.” Mom carefully moves the baby into Derek’s open arms and guides them into a proper cradling position. “Yes, like that. So he stays safe.”

“I won’t hurt him,” Derek promises. He would cross his heart, but since he can’t, he just thinks it instead.

Derek is five - he’s not that big - but this little thing is tiny! Derek has seen babies at the park, at the grocery store - lots of places - but he hasn’t seen such a small one in a long time.

He stares down at the tiny nose and watches it breathe in, and then at the tiny mouth that smacks into a pucker. The baby’s eyes open and look at Derek.

“Hi,” Derek says softly. “I’m Derek. I live next door and I’m your friend.”

The baby blinks, but keeps looking. Derek stares back, completely mesmerized. “He’s mine,” Derek sighs in a breathy rush of excitement.

The grown-ups laugh around him, but Derek is too busy to pay much attention.

\-----

The baby doesn’t do a lot, but Derek already knew he wouldn’t at first. Derek doesn’t remember much about babies since he was only two when Cora was born, but he knows that it takes them a long time for them to learn how to do anything besides scrunch up in the mommy’s belly.

Sometimes, Mom and Miss Claudia sniff the baby’s head and talk about how good it smells. Derek does it, too, even though he doesn’t understand what’s so great about it. He stops when he hears them being sad about how the ‘new baby smell’ is gone.

The baby doesn’t look wrinkly and delicate anymore, either. He starts to get cute. Really, really cute. Now he looks like the babies on the diaper boxes and tv commercials. All big eyes and big head and lots of soft hair. Mom is in love with his baby fat rolls.

Derek loves it when the baby grabs onto his finger and doesn’t let go. He makes really funny faces and really happy noises when he’s not making really upset faces and really upset noises. Mom usually takes Derek back home when the baby doesn’t stop crying, even when Derek says he wants to stay and try to make the baby feel better. But Mom says he’s helping a lot by going back to their house.

The baby seems to grow and figure out new things every day. It’s hilarious when he discovers his feet. He’s super into playing with his feet. Derek does tummy time with him on the floor and the baby can’t get enough of peek-a-boo. It’s a basic game, but he laughs every single time. And he still cries - sometimes, he cries a lot, but that’s okay with Derek. Miss Claudia and Deputy John have gotten pretty good at soothing him, and besides, the baby can’t talk. Crying is one of his ways of talking.

But Derek can, and he constantly talks to the baby, who responds in his own way by turning to Derek at the sound of his voice, cooing, and imitating sounds. When Derek goes with Miss Claudia and the baby for walks, he makes sure the baby knows about all of the interesting things he sees - other kids riding their bikes, dogs trotting by on leashes, the mailman. He also catches bugs in his hands for show-and-tell, and it turns out the baby really likes ladybugs and caterpillars. Derek hasn’t been able to get a butterfly yet, though. Oh well. He’s already waiting for the baby to grow up so they can do the same stuff together. He can wait to share butterflies, too.

\-----

Derek taps out a sequence of notes on the toy xylophone before handing the mallet over. He’s not expecting the baby to play the same tune, but it’s pretty entertaining to hear how different it sounds between the two of them.

The baby is still smashing his little heart out, bobbing his head to each chime, when Derek stands up. “I’ll be right back.”

He’s only made it a few steps when he realizes the baby has shifted onto all fours, beginning to crawl after him. “I just have to go potty,” Derek explains. He knows the baby doesn’t understand, but he’s so used to their one-sided conversations. “I’ll be really fast.”

But the baby still follows and Miss Claudia looks over from the dining room table, where she’s folding laundry. “Do you want to escort Derek there?” she asks. The baby answers with a few more paces forward. “All right, let’s go, turbo.”

Derek takes his time walking the rest of the way since the baby, as good as he is at crawling, can’t move as fast. He even tries to follow Derek into the bathroom, but Miss Claudia picks him up before he gets too far.

The baby whines, so Derek contorts his face into a silly expression to make him laugh. “Wait for me here, okay?”

As promised, Derek doesn’t take too long. After he washes his hands and opens the door, the baby squeals with delight in Miss Claudia’s arms. Derek swings the door back and forth to play a few rounds of reliable peek-a-boo, eliciting more and more shrieks.

“We can go back to our music now,” Derek says, pulling the baby’s hand forward and bringing their palms together in a high-five.

Miss Claudia releases the squirming baby, who’s all too happy to be on the loose. “Take us on a new adventure, fearless leader,” she says, and the baby blasts off down the hall as quickly as his arms and legs will carry him.

\-----

Even though the baby is on a very different schedule than Derek, being next door neighbors makes it really easy to have playdates. Derek is allowed to go over by himself now, even if Mom doesn’t come with him. He knows how to behave and the Stilinskis says it’s okay.

The baby goes to bed earlier at night and usually naps a couple of times during the day. He can get really fussy about playtime being over when Derek is around, so Miss Claudia quickly learns to send Derek home at least ten minutes before she puts the baby down in his crib. She also uses the blinds in the nursery to let the Hales know if the baby can have visitors, so Derek has a good sense of whether he can come over without having to knock on the front door. The baby’s window is on the first floor, facing the Hales’ dining room, so out of habit, Derek checks if the blinds are open whenever he walks past.

Derek watches as the baby becomes more mobile, eventually pulling himself to his feet and later cruising around the Stilinski house. The baby gets into pretty much everything, so Miss Claudia and Deputy John have to keep a really close eye on him. Derek tries to look out for him, too. It’s not super hard, even though the baby is constantly in motion. When Derek is there, the baby usually wants to stay near him.

He isn’t there for the baby’s first steps, but he comes by to play one day and sees the most awesome thing ever in the whole world. The baby’s eyes light up like always and then he wobbles over, one eager and unsteady step after another. He eventually topples over, but Derek catches him before his diapered butt hits the ground and showers him with loads of proud hugs.

Talking comes after that. The baby has been a good babbler for a long time, and the babble keeps growing, along with real, recognizable words. His most common ones, besides “mama” and “dada,” are “no” and “uh-oh.” He says “uh-oh” a lot. Takes a tumble? “Uh-oh.” Toy rolls away? “Uh-oh.” Makes a mess of his food? “Uh-oh.”

“You are so smart,” Derek praises when the baby picks up a new word.

He loves it when the baby talks, but his absolute favorite is when the baby laughs and Derek knows he's happy.

\-----

Dad lifts Derek closer to the basketball net hanging over the garage door. “He shoots, he scores!” Dad cheers as Derek tosses the ball in.

Cora jumps up and down a few feet away. “My turn!”

As Dad lowers him to the ground, Derek’s feet hit the concrete and Cora leaps into Dad’s waiting arms. She’s trying a third time to make a basket when Mom comes out of the house.

“Derek, I’m going to check in with Claudia while the cutie’s still taking his nap. Do you want to come with me, or do you want me to get you when he wakes up?”

Derek looks at the Stilinskis’ house and then back at Dad and Cora. “I’ll come with you,” he answers. “You get Dad all to yourself, Cora. Keep practicing!”

“Okay!” she grins.

Sometimes Cora gets a little jealous of how close Derek is to the baby, but he honestly does play with her a lot and she often prefers Laura to begin with. Besides, she doesn’t have to compete for their parents’ attention as much when Derek is next door. She’s not that great at sharing yet. Even her preschool teacher says so.

“Go inside and wash your hands first,” Mom says.

He nods obediently, like he wasn’t already going to do that. His hands are dark with dirt and he always cleans up for the baby, who would put worms in his mouth if he was allowed to. Derek doesn’t want him to get sick, and he really doesn’t want to be the reason why.

The moms relax on the couch and talk while Derek plays on the floor. The baby is a year old (but the grown-ups talk about his age in months, which Derek doesn’t understand, because he just tells people he’s six) and he’s got some better toys now. They’re not as fun to play with by himself, though, so Derek quickly moves on to the books. He likes practicing his reading. Sometimes he reads the simple ones with animals to the baby, and they moo and roar and bark together.

Like usual, he doesn’t really listen to what the adults are saying - at least, not until he hears them talk about him.

“Oh, Derek is such a great little helper,” Miss Claudia says to Mom. “He’s wonderful. And Mieczyslaw absolutely adores him.”

Derek looks up from a book about trains. “I love him, too,” he says with a giggle.

“You know, Derek, he hardly ever stays in one place. But sometimes, he roams all around the house. He goes into every room and looks everywhere. It doesn’t matter how many times he falls. He just keeps going - he’ll walk all around the beds, look in the bathtubs - everywhere. I don’t think he’s doing it to entertain himself. I think he’s looking for you.”

“Really?” Derek asks, his green eyes glowing.

“Yeah, he does it when his dad is home, so Mieczyslaw isn’t looking for him. I’ve only seen him do it when you’re not around.”

“Cool!” And he’s not just saying it, either. It’s totally cool to be wanted by someone that much.

Miss Claudia laughs. “And then I have to distract him with something that’s shiny or lights up or makes noise so he doesn’t get upset that he didn’t find what he was looking for.”

Mom motions to Derek to come sit with her, so he squeezes in between her and the arm of the couch, head tilted into her side. He continues paging through the book, letting the moms have grown-up time to themselves.

The silence of the baby monitor is broken up by some quiet rustling noises, followed by a familiar voice speaking nonsense. Derek trails after Mom and Miss Claudia on the way to the baby’s room, but as soon as Miss Claudia opens the door, Derek bursts forward, running around her to get to the crib.

“I’m here, I’m here!” he announces, and the baby stands up and reaches out for him.

\-----

The baby pulls the string of his wooden snail toy, wheeling it over to Derek, and thrusts the thin red rope out.

“Oh, is this for me?” Derek asks. “Can I play with it?”

“Yah!”

Derek tugs the snail around, too, going slow enough that the baby can chase it and pausing every now and then so he can catch up. The baby says something that Derek can only half-understand, but he tries his best guess.

“Miss Claudia?” he says, raising his voice so she can hear in the kitchen. “The baby wants juice.”

Her reply floats in. “Got it, apple juice, stat.”

She emerges with two plastic cups of watered-down juice. To Derek’s satisfaction, the baby happily takes his sippy cup and drinks a couple of gulps.

Derek has some, too, and Miss Claudia sets their cups down safely on the coffee table before taking a seat on the floor next to them. “Sweetie, I’ve noticed you don’t really call him by his name. You usually call him ‘the baby.’”

Derek’s face gets really warm and he bites his lip. Even his ears feel hot. “Um, I - I don’t know if I’m saying it right. My mom said it’s a family name. So it’s important. I don’t wanna say it wrong.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Derek, it’s not bad,” Miss Claudia says, smiling at him. “You didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. And you’re right, it’s my dad’s name, but it can be hard to say. I guess we didn’t do this lovebug any favors, huh?”

“It’s Mieczyslaw,” he says quietly. Even though he just admitted he’s not positive how to say it, he’s at least heard it from Miss Claudia and Deputy John lots of times. And it’s embarrassing to not know how to say your best friend’s name!

In Derek’s own family, they rarely say the baby’s name. They don’t really have to. Most of the time, it’s things like, “after you clean up your room, you can play with your friend,” or “the little guy is getting so big.” Sometimes they just call the baby ‘he’ or ‘him’ because everyone knows who they’re talking about. When Derek comes back from the Stilinskis and Mom asks, “did you have a good time with him?” of course she means the baby. If she means Deputy John, she says so.

“Yeah, you got it, Derek.” She ruffles his hair. “And even if you couldn’t pronounce it, we would never want you to feel bad.”

“Is there a nickname?” Derek asks, just as uncertain about that. All of the names in his family are pretty short, so people don’t give them nicknames too often, but Dad sometimes calls him and Cora ‘Der’ and ‘Cor.’

“Do you want to give him one? It’ll probably be easier when he meets new people.”

“Oh!” Derek is surprised. He’s never named anyone before. Laura got to name her pet turtle (Cheetah), but he’s only ever named his stuffed animals and action figures. “Yeah! … Um …”

“You don’t have to come up with one right now. You can think about it. Or I guess you can keep calling him ‘baby,’ even when you’re grown-ups.”

Derek laughs so loudly that the baby laughs, too. No, Derek can’t do that.

Hmmmm. He thinks about the nicknames of other kids he knows. There’s a boy on his tee ball team who’s also named Derek, but everyone calls him DJ because his last name is James. But that sounds cool. MS doesn’t sound cool.

This is hard. One of his friends at school is Vernon, but he tells everyone to call him by his last name, Boyd. Stilinski doesn’t really work out like that, does it? But there’s another kid in class named Bobby Sheppard who insists on going by Shep. That’s what everyone calls his older brother who’s on the high school basketball team.

“St …” Derek starts to sound out, but he doesn’t know where to go after that. “Still …”

‘Still’ is no good. And it’s not true at all, either. The baby doesn’t stay still! Even as he’s sitting with them, he’s fidgeting with a yellow stacking ring and kicking one foot back and forth.

“Stuh … Stile,” he says slowly, and then tries again. “Stiles? Can that be a name?”

“Oh, that rolls off the tongue much easier,” Miss Claudia says. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. That’s still a unique name. Part of the reason John was on board with Mieczyslaw is because he thinks his own name is so common.” She laughs. “Though he did try to tell me that Mieczyslaw might be a little too far in the other direction.”

“Stiles,” Derek echoes, still experimenting.

Miss Claudia nods. “I like it. My kid is a special kid, so he’s gotta have a special nickname. Let’s try this out, see if it sticks. Mieczyslaw?”

The baby, now mouthing at the stacking ring, looks up at her.

“Who am I?” Miss Claudia asks, pointing to her chest. “I’m Mama, right?”

“Mama!”

She points to Derek. “And who is this?”

“Wick!”

She points at the baby. “And who are you? You’re Mieczyslaw, but for short, what about Stiles? Stiles?”

The baby claps his hands against the floor. “Ties!”

“Mama,” Miss Claudia repeats as she gestures around a second time. “Derek. And Stiles. You’re Stiles.”

“Ties!” the baby imitates again.

“I think he likes it, too!” Miss Claudia says. She recites the names in succession once more with similar results. Laughing, she pulls him into her lap. “Is that right? Do you agree? We’ll call you Stiles from now on?”

“Ties!” the baby yells, this time so lively that he drools a bit.

“He’ll get the whole thing eventually, once he gets better at the different sounds. Honestly, I don’t know when he would be able to say Mieczyslaw.”

Derek grins and holds the baby’s - Stiles’ - hands out to bounce them in excitement. “Yeah, but he’s the smartest, so he could still do it way faster than me.”

Miss Claudia leans over and pulls a large toy bin closer, fishing around for the right alphabet blocks and placing six cubes in order to spell ‘Stiles.’ “This is much easier,” she says after identifying each letter out loud for Stiles. “Compared to this.”

She pulls out even more blocks and does kind of a lot of work to spell something else. Derek’s eyes widen. He can barely say Stiles’ real name, let alone spell it. There are so many letters, and they’re all different! One of them is a z! There’s a z in his real name!

“Stiles is such a fun boy’s name,” Miss Claudia says, ducking down to kiss the crown of Stiles’ head. “Can you show Derek ‘thank you’ for thinking of it?”

Derek knows that Stiles doesn’t understand what’s happened, despite his quick acceptance of a new word, but Derek does love the nickname, the more he hears it. Hopefully Stiles really likes it, too, once he’s older.

“Come over here, Stiles,” he says.

Stiles stands up and walks forward, stopping just in front of Derek. They’re almost eye-level this way and Stiles smiles from ear-to-ear, showing off several teeth. “Wick!”

If he doesn’t like it, Stiles can pick a different name later, but Derek secretly hopes he doesn’t. After all, he loves Stiles’ nickname for him.

\-----

It’s bright when Derek opens his bleary eyes. Miss Claudia is kneeling next to him and holding Stiles, who’s already awake, in her arms.

“Oh!” Derek says, the memories rushing back to him.

“Did you climb out of your crib, Stiles?” Miss Claudia asks.

“Yeah!”

Miss Claudia boops Stiles on the nose. “You’re a little escape artist and you wanted to be with Derek, huh?”

“Uh-huh!”

Now that Stiles is two, Derek sleeps over at the Stilinskis’ house occasionally. They put Stiles down for the night first and then Derek gets to stay up later with the adults who are home. Sometimes he and Deputy John play checkers - “I can’t wait to teach you chess,” Deputy John says - or he gets special cartoon time.

The Stilinskis have a third bedroom they use as a guest room, but Derek doesn’t want to stay in there. He doesn’t sleep over to be by himself, so he has a little portable mattress he uses on the floor of Stiles’ room.

“I didn’t see him do it, but he didn’t get hurt,” Derek says.

“He’s getting to that age when this is bound to happen. And given how squirrelly he is, I’m surprised he didn’t do this sooner! We’ll take a look after breakfast.”

Breakfast is a simple event for Derek, but it takes a while because Stiles is very insistent about eating with utensils. It’s not a new skill, but he hasn’t gotten very good at it yet. He eats slowly, but he doesn’t mind, even though he’s not a naturally patient boy. Derek eats with utensils, so Stiles must eat with them, too.

After they clean up, Miss Claudia turns on the computer so she can pull up last night’s baby cam video. Derek stands next to the chair while Stiles is perched in her lap with her arm firmly across his belly. He’ll bang his hands all over the keyboard otherwise.

“All right, let’s see what you did, Mister …” Miss Claudia says. It takes her some time to find the right spot, but once a flicker of motion appears in the rapidly advancing images, she zeroes in.

It’s after midnight, and Stiles is lying in his crib while Derek is curled up on the floor under some blankets. That image is interrupted as Stiles stands up in his crib, peering over the top. At first, he only looks around, mostly between the carpet under the crib and Derek. After walking around close to the bars for a bit, he eventually manages to hoist one leg up and hook it over the railing.

It takes much more effort to lift his whole body, but Stiles is nothing but persistent until he gets to the other side of the crib. He holds on tightly to the bars, so close to freedom, as he stretches down and taps one foot to the ground, and then the other.

He teeters backwards, but he regains his balance and doesn’t fall. In victory, he does a bouncy dance, bending at both knees, until he returns to his ultimate mission.

Derek wakes up to see Stiles tugging on the blankets to pull them back, except it’s not working because he’s also standing on top of them.

“Stiles?” Derek asks in a small, drowsy voice.

“Hiiii-iiiiii,” Stiles sing-songs.

“Stiles!” Derek says again, bolting upright with realization. “You got out of your crib. How did you get out?”

Stiles points a hand towards the ceiling. “I go up.” He points his hand in the opposite direction. “I go down.”

“You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“No owies,” Stiles says, unfazed.

“Are you sure?” Derek asks, putting his hands on Stiles’ shoulders.

Stiles closes the distance completely. “I want hugs!” Derek cuddles him and Stiles pushes his face forward. “Kisses!”

Derek pecks him on his pursed lips. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Derek says. “And you’re so tricky. Of course you got out.”

“I’m out!” Stiles copies.

“You wanna sleep here with me?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay. I can’t put you back in your crib anyway. But no running off, right? You stay here.”

“Uh-huh!”

Derek helps Stiles scamper under the covers so they become a bigger lump on the mattress, one that stops moving after another minute or so.

“Yeah, that’s how I found you guys this morning,” Miss Claudia says, pausing the recording. “We’ve already lowered your crib mattress as far as we can, Stiles. So I think it’s time for us to think about getting you a bed for big boys. How does that sound? A bed like Derek’s?”

Stiles nods enthusiastically. “Derek!”

“And then you don’t have to climb out of anything. No jailbreak required.”

“We’ll be big boys together,” Derek says, just as happy as Stiles.

“You know what else big boys do?” Miss Claudia says, setting Stiles down. “They change out of their jammies and put on new play clothes. Go on, Stiles. You can pick.”

Stiles takes off running and Derek follows him. Sometimes Stiles’ clothing choices are … interesting, but they’re always fun. Life is so much more fun with Stiles in it.

\-----

The next week when Derek comes over to play, Deputy John greets him at the door. “Stiles has something to show you.”

Derek runs into Stiles’ room, where Stiles is rolling around on his brand new full-size bed, with Miss Claudia sitting on the edge to make sure he doesn’t get too rowdy and fall off. The bed has a blue comforter with robots on it and the crib is gone.

“Wow! Cool, Stiles!”

“Come on!” Stiles beckons.

Derek scrambles onto the bed, too, and Stiles stops turning over to lie next to him.

“Now there’s plenty of room for the two of you,” Miss Claudia says. “And your dad or I can read you bedtime stories and snuggle with you before night-night.”

Stiles is so excited about his new bed that he unleashes a ton of babble, something he does when he has so much to say but doesn’t know how to say it yet.

“Gosh, you are growing up so fast,” Miss Claudia says. “One day, I’ll turn around and you’ll both be taller than me. And then you’ll be doing math I don’t remember how to do anymore, and driving and graduating and going off in the world.”

Derek glances at Stiles, who still wears diapers and loves riding his tricycle. It seems like a really long time before they get old like that. He doesn’t want to get old like that if it means he’s not with his family and his friends.

“We won’t go far,” Derek pledges.

“Oh, you are such a sweet boy, you know that? But it’s okay if you do.” Miss Claudia brushes a lock of hair from Stiles’ forehead. “I think you boys will end up right where you belong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The baby cam footage is in all likelihood an anachronism that didn’t exist like this when Stiles was two (circa 1997?), but I wrote it as though Claudia could retrieve footage after-the-fact on a computer. I’m really not sure how it worked at the time and that’s not something I could successfully google. I don’t know if you could only play back video on the actual baby cam device, and how much was stored, and if audio was also included. But this was how I chose to write the scene with Claudia finding out what happened - otherwise, it’s just Derek explaining to her later, as a seven-year-old, and that wasn’t as fun to me.
> 
> The next chapter will include Stiles becoming the little chatterbox he’s meant to be! See you then!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for bearing with me on a new chapter! This should not have taken this long ... but it did, oops! Chapter 3 will be posted much faster, as it's already 70% done.
> 
> I hope you enjoy these further adventures, and I'd love to know what you think! Muchas gracias!
> 
> [Posted 11/8/19]

Stiles seems to talk more and more every time Derek sees him. It makes sense, though, since he hears a lot of adult speech from his parents. Even though he’s just a kid, Derek has talked to Stiles so much and narrated so many things for him that Stiles has been absorbing a lot of words for a really long time.

So of course he’s a chatty three-year-old, which makes Derek as happy as a clam. He’s always wanted to know what Stiles was thinking, and now that Stiles is more able to tell him - wow, does Stiles sure tell him!

Stiles has been asking for a movie all day, so on a Saturday night, Derek and the Stilinskis settle down in front of the television.

Deputy John sits down on one end of the couch, next to Miss Claudia, but not for long. Stiles squeezes in between them, leaning into his dad first. “Too hard!” he proclaims, shortly before leaning against his mom next. “Too soft!”

Before either of his parents can reply, Stiles clambers over Miss Claudia’s lap to the other end of the couch. Grabbing onto Derek’s arm and cuddling up with him, he grins and says, “Just right!”

His fairy tale reference makes his parents laugh. “Now, don’t be going into strangers’ houses, Goldielocks,” Miss Claudia says, threading a hand through Stiles’ mop of sandy brown hair and turning to Deputy John. “Do you think his hair will stay lighter, like yours? Or do you think it’ll get dark like mine?”

Stiles reaches up to touch Derek’s hair. “Black!”

Deputy John laughs again. “I don’t think it’ll get that dark, Stiles. Probably just brown, like your mom’s.”

People really never mistake Derek and Stiles for brothers, even though they’re clearly very close. They don’t look alike, and that goes far beyond Derek’s dark hair and bright eyes vs. Stiles’ nearly blond hair and amber eyes. When they’re out somewhere with an adult, like at the park, only one of them is calling that adult their mom or dad. Stiles is also learning and applying different rules, so he’s taken to calling Derek “Best Friend” fairly often, since he refers to almost everyone else in his life by their relationship to him, whether it’s Mama, Daddy, Grammy, or Doctor.

“Be gentle,” Miss Claudia cautions.

“I am!” Stiles says, although his arms are raised awkwardly around Derek’s neck. Derek doesn’t care - he’s so used to Stiles crawling and climbing all over him that it feels more normal than anything else.

“You can have all of my porridge,” Derek tells him.

“Is it good?”

Derek doesn’t actually know what porridge is. If he’s ever eaten it, it’s because his parents told him it was something else. But Goldielocks and all three bears seem to like it.

“I’m not sure,” Derek admits. “But even if it is, you can have all of mine.”

“Have my blankie with me!” Stiles offers, holding out one side of the soft fabric.

Derek accepts and they both get cozy underneath it. For now. Stiles will get up later to jump and bounce along with the songs and music like he usually does.

Deputy John fiddles with the remote control. “Okay, boys, are you ready?”

“Beast!” Stiles chants. It’s one of his favorite Disney films, but he doesn’t ask for Belle nearly as often as he asks for the Beast. He’s fascinated with heroes and villains.

As Belle strolls through her provincial town, Stiles chimes in with the “bonjours” of the villagers and chirps about Belle’s “Winchell life,” since he assumes the baker is making donuts, too. But this time, he stays in his seat for the whole movie, happy to share all of the best parts with Derek and be in a place that feels just right.

\-----

Derek kneels at the coffee table as he works on a new jigsaw puzzle of a leprechaun with a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. It’s a little too advanced for Stiles, though, and even if it wasn’t, sometimes it’s hard to keep Stiles focused on things. He’s not going to be very excited about it until he actually sees the leprechaun come together.

Stiles drifts over to some different toys, pawing through them until he finds a bright yellow plastic walkie-talkie. It doesn’t seem to be working, though, despite shaking it in the air like that will magically fix it.

“Piece-uh-shit,” he grumbles.

He’s not really talking to anyone in particular, but it’s otherwise quiet in the house. The tv isn’t on and his parents weren’t talking at the same time, so everyone hears it clearly. With a silent gasp and his jaw dropped, Derek looks up from the puzzle.

Deputy John also picks his head up from the bills he’s paying with Miss Claudia in the dining room. “Stiles, that’s not a nice word to say.”

“Sorry, Daddy!” Stiles’ cheery apology contrasts the soft discipline. “I don’t know. Mama says it.”

Miss Claudia opens her mouth to speak, closes it, and opens it again. “That’s a no-no word. There are a lot of things I should say instead if I’m mad about something. And you shouldn’t say it all.”

“Okay,” Stiles agrees.

And just like that, it’s over. Stiles’ parents don’t make a bigger deal of it and draw more attention to the behavior. It’s normal for Stiles for experiment, whether he knows something is wrong and is testing boundaries or he honestly doesn’t know. Derek does it himself sometimes, too, although he thinks Stiles does it more. Derek remembers the first time he saw Stiles openly roll his eyes. That was hilarious.

Derek thinks the walkie-talkie just needs new batteries, but he doesn’t get a chance to say that. Stiles puts it down and goes over to his kitchen set instead. “I cook!” he tells Derek. “What do you want to eat?”

“Um,” Derek says, thinking about the plastic food accessories Stiles has. “How about eggs and a sandwich?”

“Yeah!” Stiles busies himself, digging around. He locates the sunny-side-up eggs first and makes sizzling noises as he pretends to cook them on the stovetop. The sandwich is harder since he can’t find a second slice of bread. Stiles doesn’t know about open-faced sandwiches because he’s never been given an open-faced sandwich in his life. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.

Stiles checks the same places again, still looking for that missing slice. “Gah-dammit!”

“Stiles,” Deputy John says.

“Oh, that one’s all you,” Miss Claudia says, pointing at Deputy John before he can say anything else.

“Stiles, that’s another no-no word,” he says. “Geez, you really do hear everything, don’t you?”

Miss Claudia gets up from the table and motions to Stiles. “Come here, my little sponge,” she says, crouching down in front of him and holding his hands in hers. “Sometimes adults say things that children don’t say. And we shouldn’t say them around you, but since you’re a kid, you shouldn’t say them, too, even if you hear them. And that probably doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to you, but that’s how it is. Like adults pay for food, but you don’t have to pay for food. We give you the food. And how your dad and I take care of everything in the house - he mows the lawn and I wash the cars, stuff like that - but the only things you really have to clean up are your room and your toys. Adults just do more than kids sometimes. And that’s true with words, too. Okay?”

“Okay, Mama,” Stiles says, nodding.

“So no more no-no words, got it?”

Stiles nods again and then laughs with a shrug. “Can I go play now?”

“Yes, darling.”

Stiles turns on his heel and runs back to his toy kitchen. Since he can’t find the other slice of bread, he brings the eggs, plus a slice of pizza and an apple, to Derek instead.

“Thank you, Stiles. Are you gonna eat with me?”

Stiles nods and plops down next to Derek and they pretend to enjoy the meal. Stiles is a lot more animated about chewing fake food than he is about eating real food.

Derek looks over at the dining room where Deputy John and Miss Claudia are focused on the papers in front of them again. Turning to Stiles with a small smile, Derek whispers, “Piece of shit.”

He doesn’t normally encourage Stiles to misbehave, but this is too funny and Derek is old enough to know that bad words are really just bad words you don’t let grown-ups hear you say. Stiles is going to learn that at some point, too.

Stiles muffles his giggles behind his hands, brown eyes twinkling. “Gah-dammit,” he whispers back.

Maybe Derek should know better than to break the rules with Stiles, even in secret, but they can be partners-in-crime every now and then. It’s okay. Not real crime, of course. But with everything else, that’s exactly what they are. Partners.

\-----

After Miss Claudia takes the key out of the ignition, Derek unfastens his seat belt and reaches over to undo the buckle of Stiles’ car seat next to him.

Stiles scurries out, excited to see his dad, but as they walk towards the building, Stiles pulls up the rear, last in line behind both Miss Claudia and Derek. “Mama, we’re your ducklings!” he says.

“Okay, but I need my ducklings to walk in front of me, please.”

Stiles runs around her and takes the lead, with Derek behind him. Stiles is familiar with the police station, so he knows exactly where to go.

It’s not long before Stiles falls back and walks by Derek’s side, clasping his hand. Stiles is really good about holding hands when they’re outside of the house now. He doesn’t need to be told and is very diligent about it - after learning the hard way. A while back, he’d been at the mall with his parents and run off unbeknownst to them, eager to go back to the carousel. Seeing how panicked his mother was when she found him a couple minutes later was enough to make a lasting impression. He still loves to explore, but he doesn’t do it alone.

Stiles sends merry waves to everyone he passes. He would probably wave to criminals under arrest in handcuffs, too, if there were any around. Derek is more subdued - that’s just his nature - but he also doesn’t come to the station as often as Stiles does. To Stiles, this is where his dad hangs out with his friends and does awesome things when he isn’t at home.

Deputy John stands up from his desk chair at the sight of them. “Uh-oh. Are you boys turning yourselves in for something?”

“I heard you giggling in your room past bedtime yesterday, Stiles,” Miss Claudia says, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Stiles, however, can’t be bothered to dwell on that. “Daddy, we have lunch and sweets for you!”

“Thanks, guys,” Deputy John says, peeking into the Tupperware Miss Claudia brought. “Ooh, lasagna. And can I eat all of these brownies myself? Well, I guess I’ll share.”

Stiles’ eyes go huge at the very idea of being allowed to eat so much dessert. After Deputy John moves the container of brownies to the break area nearby, it draws a steady stream of people. Even Sheriff Kennedy emerges from his office to grab a piece.

“Hi, big boss!” Stiles greets.

“Well, hello there, Stiles. Did you make these yourself?”

“I helped!”

The sheriff takes a bite. “Oh, yeah? This tastes great. What’d you do?”

“Mama let me stir the bowl. And I put in lots of love! For my daddy. But you can have some.”

Sheriff Kennedy laughs heartily. “I needed a pick-me-up to get through these reports. This’ll do the trick, all right. And I’ll take another one for good measure.”

As he walks away, a young deputy Derek doesn’t recognize helps herself to a brownie. “The sheriff is right - these are yummy. You did such a good job.”

“Thank you, nice lady,” Stiles says.

Deputy John picks Stiles up to hold him against his side, closer to eye-level. “This is Deputy Tara. She’s new to the station. Can you tell her who you are?”

Stiles tilts his head towards Deputy Tara with another happy wave. “Hi, I’m Stiles! I’m three years old. I’m four soon. Then I get new toys. And when I grow up, I catch all the bad guys. Like my daddy.”

Deputy John and Stiles grin at each other. “You’ll be a better deputy than me,” Deputy John says.

“Yeah! ’Cause you be Sheriff!”

Deputy Tara smiles, the corners of her eyes wrinkling. Derek has seen that look before. A lot of people look at Stiles like that.

“Oh my goodness,” she coos. “How cute are you?”

“Ummmm …” Stiles says, considering. “…Very.”

Derek and the adults erupt with laughter, with Stiles joining in half a beat later. He’s a super funny kid, but it’s often unintentional. He’s becoming more aware of what’s humorous through his own observation and reinforcement from other people.

At this rate, Derek can only imagine what Stiles will be like when he’s older. Stiles will make him laugh until Derek is blue in the face. Derek doesn’t think of himself as funny - not a drag, but not a comedian, either - and that’s okay. Dad says everyone has their own sense of humor and there are a lot of ways to bring people joy. Some ways are just more obvious.

Stiles squirms in Deputy John’s arms, so his dad lets him go and he immediately goes to Derek. “Derek, my best friend,” he says, bypassing handholding altogether as he wraps his arms around Derek. “He’s very cute, too.”

As another chorus of chuckles surrounds them, Derek squeezes Stiles right back and flushes pink in the face instead.

\-----

Stiles puts the final touches on his Lincoln Log creation, which doesn’t really look like anything, but he’s proud of it anyway.

On the other hand, Derek is deep into his own, much more recognizable house, but isn’t too busy to compliment Stiles’ vision. “That looks great.”

“I play Legos!” Stiles says, ready to move on to a new set of toys. He makes his way over to Deputy John, who’s sitting at the dining room table with a bunch of files. “Daddy, let’s play Legos!”

“Sure, I can build something with you while I get some work done. Is that okay?”

“You have to work?” Stiles asks, squinting.

“I do. But. I can also play at the same time. We call it multi-tasking. Can you multi-task with me?”

“Okay!”

“We’ll build something here at the dining room table, and you can be my Head of Procurement.”

“What’s that?”

“That means you’re in charge of getting me stuff. Mmmm, let’s start with a long blue one.”

Stiles darts back to the living room to reach into his Lego bins and returns with a piece that matches.

“And now I think a yellow square would be good.”

Once again, Stiles fetches obediently. When he hands the block over, his face lights up with a revelation. “I bring ‘em all to you!” Stiles volunteers.

“Oh, that’s okay, buddy. I like getting them one by one. It gives me time to think about what we’re making. So why don’t you pick a color and shape yourself, Stiles? Surprise me.”

“Okay!”

Derek mostly tunes out after that, still aware of Stiles’ trips back and forth but not really paying attention to anything but his own structure. In the background, he hears Deputy John ask for more pieces, but it’s not until their conversation grows in between Lego requests that Derek starts listening again.

“Daddy, what’s all your paper?”

“I’m looking into some cases before my shift tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes it’s not easy to figure out who did bad things or why they did them, or where the bad guys are now. It can take a lot of time.”

“Why?”

“Some bad guys do a lot of planning, and some of them are pretty smart. They usually know what they’re going to do way before we find out, so it takes us some time to catch up with them.”

“How?”

“Well, we look really hard at where the bad things happened. Sometimes there are clues there that we can look at for answers. Like a puzzle. And sometimes other people saw something, or they have cameras that saw something, or we find out it’s a pattern, where it’s like other bad things that have happened. And then we start to know the things the bad guys know.”

“Why are they not nice?”

“Oh gosh, Stiles. There can be lots of reasons. They might have had a really hard life, or they make friends with criminals and get caught up in it, or they just don’t want to be nice. Some people don’t grow up in homes that help them be nice people. Or they do, but they choose not to be nice.”

Stiles stands up straight. “I’m nice!”

Deputy John laughs. “Yes, you are.”

“I have a nice home.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Why?”

“Why do you have a nice home?”

“Yeah!”

“Because,” Deputy John says, pulling Stiles into his arms and blowing a raspberry against his forehead, “we love you.”

Stiles giggles and doesn’t try to escape his dad’s tight embrace. “Why?”

“You know, somehow I figured you would ask me that. Because you are an amazing blessing and we loved you before we ever even saw you. And you are the best Lego-getter I know.”

Stiles laughs again and runs back to his Legos to grab one more once Deputy John releases him. After a few more minutes, he hands yet another block over and sighs, slightly out of breath. “I’m tired now.”

“Oh, really?” Deputy John says, looking up from his files. “You don’t say. How’d that happen?”

Stiles shrugs. “I dunno!”

“Sounds like you could use a nap.”

“Okay.” Stiles accepts the idea of not playing anymore with no resistance and bounds over to Derek to declare, “Naptime!”

“I’m going to finish our house first,” Derek says, fitting two logs together into a corner. “I’ll come in after I’m done, okay?”

Stiles takes a seat next to him and peers at the in-progress project. “It’s so big!”

Derek’s buildings have gotten more complex over time, so the Stilinskis bought extra sets and now the possibilities seem endless. “Look, here’s a room for us to jump on trampolines,” he says, pointing at one end of his grand manor. “And here’s another room with a robot that makes us mac ’n’ cheese.”

“Coooooool!” Stiles marvels, leaning in to push his face closer - but not too close.

He’s not the most physically careful child, but he’s what Mom and Dad call “a quick study.” Not too long ago, he and Derek had been making a castle in a sandbox when Stiles lost his balance and accidentally struck the base on one side. As some wet sand slid out of formation, Stiles immediately burst into tears, wailing, “I broke it, I broke it!” Two kisses from Miss Claudia and a way better rebuilt castle later, he was all smiles again, but the short-lived heartbreak hadn’t been forgotten.

“Yeah, I have more work to do before it’s the best house ever.”

“But … naptime?…” Stiles tries again.

If Derek’s having a growth spurt, sometimes he’s tired mid-day and takes a nap, but he’s not having one now and he feels pretty awake. Miss Claudia has already talked to him - more than once - about how it’s okay to say no to Stiles. He doesn’t have to do something just because Stiles wants to, and Stiles should hear “no” sometimes so he doesn’t get spoiled.

“Like Veruca Salt?” Derek asked. “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” is one of his favorites and he really wants a gummy bear tree of his own.

“Yes! Like her.”

“But Stiles is a good egg!” Derek said, laughing.

“Oh, he sure is. And we want him to stay that way! So don’t feel guilty if you don’t always give Stiles what he wants. You can say no. Everyone else in the world isn’t going to tell him ‘yes’ all the time, so he needs to understand that.”

“Okay,” Derek nodded.

So it’s supposed to be a good thing to turn Stiles down every now and then, but it’s just that Derek usually … doesn’t want to. And it’s really no different now, with Stiles blinking at him with a hopeful smile.

Derek can put the rest of their house together later. Deputy John isn’t going to clean up the logs like he’s done with them.

“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing the paperback next to him. It’s not that Stiles can’t fall asleep by himself - he does it all the time - but his self-sufficiency doesn’t prevent him from wanting to be with the people he loves.

Deputy John draws the blinds partially shut and there’s still some light coming in, so Derek lies down on the side of the bed closest to the window. Stiles conks out soundly next to him while Derek picks up where he left off in his Harry Potter book, looking forward to knowing what happens next. Naptime with Stiles means being able to read uninterrupted.

And Stiles only accidentally kicks him in his sleep once, so all in all, it’s a pretty great afternoon.

\-----

Miss Claudia opens the front door with a small smile. “Hi, Derek.”

“Hi, Miss Claudia!”

“Derek, I’m sorry to tell you that Stiles can’t play right now.”

“Oh, okay. Is he out with Deputy John?”

“No, honey, he’s in timeout. He doesn’t get to play with friends this afternoon.”

“Oh,” Derek says again, shoulders slumping this time. “Was he bad?”

“Remember how we talk about it?” Miss Claudia prompts.

Derek nods in quick motions. “Oops, yeah. He wasn’t bad. He just did something bad.”

“That’s right. He didn’t want to stop doing bad things, so I have to teach him.”

“And he has to stay in his timeout spot all day?” Derek asks.

“No, he already did. Only five minutes. But he threw another tantrum afterwards. A big one. He can play in the house, but not with friends.”

Derek leans to the side to peek around Miss Claudia in hopes of getting a glimpse of Stiles so they can wave to each other or something, but no such luck. He’s probably in his room anyway.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Miss Claudia repeats. “I know this maybe feels like you’re being punished, too.”

“It’s okay,” Derek says. His body language says otherwise, but he can’t help but show his disappointment. “I’ll come back tomorrow. My sisters are home, so I can play with them instead. Or my dad. And I want Stiles to stay a good egg.”

“You got it,” Miss Claudia says, and then gives him a big hug.

Derek takes another long look inside before turning away to go back to his house. It’s Sunday, so it’s especially a shame that they can’t make the most of a weekend day, but Derek understands that Stiles must have been pretty bratty to get this kind of reaction.

As always, Derek can be patient. He can wait as long as he has to for Stiles.

\-----

Thankfully, it’s barely over 24 hours. The next day, Derek tries again after school and to his satisfaction, Deputy John lets him inside with no problem. “Mr. Hyde is gone,” Deputy John says. “He’s back to Dr. Jekyll.”

“Hi, Deputy John!” Derek calls out over his shoulder as he makes a beeline for Stiles’ room. “Bye!”

Stiles is picking up toys and putting them away when Derek enters. “Hey, Stiles!”

“Best friend!” Stiles abandons the stuffed animals in his hands and hugs Derek like they haven’t seen each other in months. “Yay!”

“Whatcha doin’?”

Stiles doesn’t let go, and instead, tips his head back to look up at Derek. “Mama says clean up, so I clean up.”

“I’ll help you, if you want,” Derek offers.

“I can do by myself,” Stiles says, finally dropping his arms and going back to the stuffed toys.

Derek sits down on Stiles’ bed and lets Stiles follow Miss Claudia’s instructions on his own. He’s so independent as it is, and after the tantrums of the previous day, it’s a good sign that Stiles is so readily doing what his mother asked.

“I came over yesterday, but you couldn’t play. What happened?”

Stiles shrugs and keeps tidying up his room. “Timeout.”

Even if Miss Claudia hadn’t informed Derek the day before, he would know now that she was the one who disciplined Stiles. When Deputy John puts Stiles in timeout, Stiles doesn’t call it that. He says, “Daddy put me in jail.”

“How come?”

“I was in a real mood,” Stiles says dryly.

Despite his earlier wistfulness, Derek laughs. It’s a really good imitation of Miss Claudia. “I’m glad you’re in a better one now. ‘Cause I missed you.”

“I missed you!” Stiles stops cleaning to jump up on the bed with Derek, sitting hip-to-hip. He’s a real sucker for giving and receiving affection. “So I have to be a good boy. Good boys play with friends.” Stiles shakes his head. “Not bad boys.”

“Hey, you’re not a bad boy,” Derek corrects, taking his own turn copying Stiles’ mom. “You just did something bad, okay? But you know it was wrong and you’ll do better, right?”

Stiles nods. “Yep.”

“And it’s good to do good things. Not just to be with your friends.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees. With a sudden mischievous grin, he pounces on Derek, causing him to fall back on the bed with a surprised yelp. “But I got you! I got you now!”

Derek turns the tables and tickles him mercilessly. It’s not really fair since Derek is bigger and heavier, but Stiles always likes a good tickle fight.

“Looks like we’ve reached maximum fun in here,” Deputy John says, appearing in the doorway. “How about after you finish cleaning your room, we take it outside and go to the playground?”

Stiles cheers and is back on his feet in no time. “I do it myself,” he repeats, returning the few remaining toys to their rightful places. “I be a good boy who plays with friends and goes on the swings and gets ice cream!”

Deputy John shakes his head to himself and smiles. “Hey, wait a minute, who said anything about ice cream?”

\-----

Derek has only been home from school for five minutes when the doorbell chimes. After poking his head out of his bedroom, he hears a hum of voices followed by a high-pitched laugh. With a happy heart, he grabs a small rectangle of paper from his desk and runs down the stairs to find Mom talking to Stiles and Miss Claudia in the entryway.

“Hey, Stiles.”

“Hi, Derek! Hi!” Stiles yells, forgetting to use his indoor voice.

Miss Claudia pats the top of Stiles’ head. “This little guy couldn’t wait any longer. He’s been asking me all afternoon when you’d be home.”

Stiles is nearly bursting with excitement as he bounces on his feet, but his mom keeps him reeled in with her hands on his shoulders.

“Aw, you were waiting for me?” Derek asks.

“Yep! All day!” Stiles holds out his own piece of paper with both hands. “Mama’s my valentine, and Daddy’s my valentine, and you’re my valentine!”

Derek takes the small card and smiles down at the yellow Transformer saying, ‘Let’s bee together!’ “Of course,” Derek answers, and Stiles’ already joyful face brightens even more. “We’re valentines, just like you said.”

There are indentations of writing on the back of the card, so Derek turns it over in anticipation. Stiles is only four and learning to read much faster than most kids his age, but he definitely can’t write on his own like this yet. Derek recognizes the letters as Miss Claudia’s handwriting.

“I love you more than chicken nuggets,” he reads aloud with a grin. Stiles may not have written it, but the thought behind it is all him. “Oh wow, really? That’s a lot.”

“Uh-huh! I love you more than all of ‘em.”

“Thanks! And I have something for you, too.”

Derek thinks he’s too old to give out valentines to everyone in his class, but he asked Cora if he could have one of her extra ones. It’s “My Little Pony,” which is fine with Derek since Stiles will love all of the colors.

He gives it to Stiles, who ooh’s and aah’s over the cute sky blue horse with the big sparkly dark eyes. They remind Derek of Stiles.

“Mama?” Stiles asks.

Miss Claudia leans down so she can read the card without taking it out of Stiles’ sight. “You are the apple of my eye!” she says.

“Apple?”

“Not a real apple, sweetie. Not the kind you eat. It’s something people say. Apple of my eye - it means that you are very, very special to Derek. He loves you very much.”

“Oh!”

“I wrote on the back, too,” Derek prompts.

Miss Claudia reads from the other side. “You make me so happy every day. Love, Derek.”

“Thank you, valentine!” Stiles rushes forward for an overenthusiastic hug. “I love you!”

Derek ruffles his hair. “Love you, too.”

“I have candy!” Stiles says. “Mama said I can eat some later. Is it later, Mama?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Do you wanna come over? And share with me?”

Derek glances over at Mom, who nods in approval. “Sure, let’s go.”

“I’ll race ya!” Stiles says.

Derek lets Stiles beat him to his little play table in the Stilinskis’ living room and Miss Claudia puts out a decent amount of candy in a dish for them to pick through. Stiles goes straight for a chocolate heart wrapped in shiny red foil while Derek eats a couple of peanut butter cups.

There are also some pastel-colored candy hearts, but Derek doesn’t have any. They feel like chalk and they taste like chalk. The messages are really fun, though.

Stiles lines up a bunch of them in a row before pushing a pink heart across to Derek. Derek rotates it right-side up so he can tell Stiles what the roughly-carved text says. “True love.”

Derek scans the other candies on the table until he finds a good one. He nudges it out of the row with his finger and Stiles looks at him expectantly. “Forever,” Derek adds, and Stiles beams.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to all those who observe the holiday and Happy Wednesday night to those who don't!
> 
> I don't know if it's a "mistake" to post this right before a holiday and maybe get lost in the shuffle, but oh well, I'm doing it and seeing what happens! Please subscribe if you want to know when additional chapters are posted, and thank you for any feedback! I hope this makes you smile!
> 
> [Posted 11/27/19]

There’s a lot going on for two o’clock in the middle of the night.

As Miss Claudia showers Stiles off in the bathtub, Derek runs back into Stiles’ room. Only the knee of Derek’s pajama pants got wet, so he cleaned up quickly, but Stiles needs more work.

Derek spends so much time next door that his mom keeps some of his clothes in one of Stiles’ dresser drawers. He pulls on the first pajama pants he finds and opens a different drawer to thumb through Stiles’ pajamas.

Yes! The ones with the frogs are folded near the top instead of dirty in a hamper somewhere. Stiles loves them.

“Sorry for the trouble, Derek.”

Derek swivels around to face Deputy John kneeling on Stiles’ mattress and scrubbing. “It’s okay,” Derek says. “I don’t mind waking up.”

The sound of water turns off and soon after, Stiles wanders into the room with his mom behind him. His dry hair is sticking up all over and he’s still sniffling the way he was while being rinsed off.

“Here, Stiles,” Derek says, offering the cheery yellow and green clothes. “The froggies will make you feel better.”

Miss Claudia takes them from his outstretched hands. “Thanks, Derek. Okay, sweetie, let’s put these on.”

Stiles goes through the motions of getting dressed with his mother’s help, and she rubs his shoulder before gathering the dirty sheets Deputy John stripped from the bed. “I’m going to throw these in the washer with your old jammies really quick.”

Derek scoots over next to Stiles as he forlornly watches Deputy John. “I’m sorry, Daddy …” Stiles says, chin trembling.

“Oh, don’t worry, bud. It was just an accident. We’re not upset with you. Not at all.”

Stiles slumps down on the floor with his legs tucked underneath him. “Big boys aren’t s’posed to wet the bed,” he cries. “Babies do that.”

As far as Derek knows, Stiles hasn’t wet the bed in months. His parents don’t even have any pull-ups in the house anymore, it’s been so long. He’d easily and happily embraced potty training. Sure, he got stickers for it, too, but he hadn’t cared about those nearly as much as he had cared about growing up.

Stiles is a sensitive kid, too. And his best friend is five years older, so he’s constantly trying to catch up and be big.

“Stiles, you’re not a baby,” Derek says, hugging him sideways in comfort. “Everyone knows you’re not a baby.”

Derek has seen Stiles cry a lot over the last four years, but this is so different than when Stiles was an infant and a toddler. Sometimes, Derek even found it funny because it wasn’t real sadness. Stiles crying because he didn’t want to go to bed, or yesterday he liked peas but not today, or he couldn’t play outside during the pouring rain - Stiles wasn’t actually sad in a real way.

But now he is and Derek can’t stand it. He would do anything to fix it.

Stiles gulps in air between sobs and Derek pivots so he’s sitting in front of Stiles, face-to-face. “It happens all the time. I wet the bed, too. And so did Cora. I remember that. Everyone does it.”

“Really?” Stiles asks, looking up from under his wet lashes.

“Yeah,” Derek says, brushing a falling tear from Stiles’ chubby cheek with his thumb. “You’re always wanting to do the same stuff as me, right?”

“Yeah …” Stiles trails off.

Miss Claudia overhears the end of their conversation as she comes back. “Honey, it’s part of learning. And you’re such a good learner.”

Stiles nods to himself, somewhat rebounded, as his mom wipes his face more thoroughly with a tissue.

“Your bed is clean now,” Deputy John says, “but it’s pretty damp so the mattress will take a while to dry, even if we use a hair dryer. You two should go back to sleep. So what do you think about a special sleepover, Stiles? You can sleep on the floor.”

Stiles rubs at his left eye. “Special?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, standing up and holding Stiles’ hand. “Like I used to do in your room, when you were still in a crib. Like that. It’ll be like camping.”

“Oh. Okay! Daddy, you camp with us?”

“Sure, buddy. I’ll have to sleep on the couch because of my back, but sure.”

It doesn’t take long for Deputy John and Miss Claudia to set everything up in the living room. The coffee table gets pushed to the side and in its place, Deputy John spreads out two layers of unzipped sleeping bags and pillows from Stiles’ bed.

“Good night, sweetie,” Miss Claudia says, dropping a kiss on Stiles’ forehead. “Have fun at your campout. I know I will - I’ll have my bed all to myself.”

Deputy John stretches out on the couch with some blankets. “Well, I get to hang out here with my boys, so enjoy your lonely solitude.”

“Lonely!” Stiles parrots, wiggling around on his back.

Miss Claudia turns the lights out as she leaves and Deputy John is fast asleep in no time. It takes Derek longer than that, though. And Stiles, too, apparently.

“Derek?” he whispers.

“What’s up?”

Stiles pauses. “What if I have another accident?”

“I don’t think you will. But even if you do, it’s okay. It’s just pee. It washes off and we can clean it up. I’m not worried.” Derek snuggles closer to make sure Stiles knows he’s not afraid of anything. “Just close your eyes and have some good dreams.”

“Okay.”

It’s quiet for a while until a loud snore erupts from Deputy John. Derek turns his head to check if it woke Stiles up, only to find that Stiles doesn’t seem to be asleep yet in the first place. After the third snore, Stiles can’t help but giggle.

“See, it could be way worse,” Derek whispers. “At least you don’t sound like that.”

\-----

Derek rolls the die and moves his token three spaces across the colorful Monopoly Junior game board. It takes them a long time to play, but by choice. While it’s fun enough to simply play the game, they like to make up stories about what’s happening at the places they land, whether it’s the puppet show or the haunted house.

“I have a good story!” Stiles says.

“About the ferris wheel?”

“Uh-uh, not about the game. It’s really good.”

“Okay, let me have it.”

Stiles’ stories, while becoming more fluid, are still filled with the lilts and rhythm of a young child. Derek could listen to his lively voice tell stories for hours, which is convenient, since sometimes it seems like Stiles can talk that long.

“Once upon a time, there was a boy named Little Red Riding Hood. He’s called that because he wears a red hood. And one day, he goes into the forest to visit his grammy. He loves his grammy a whole lot, so he brings a picnic basket for lunch.”

“What’s in the picnic basket?” Derek asks.

“Um … Happy Meals!”

“That sounds like a good lunch.”

“Yeah! And Grammy always lets Little Red Riding Hood have her Happy Meal toy.”

Derek laughs. “Grandmas are generous like that.”

“So Little Red Riding Hood walks through the forest by himself because he’s very brave. When he gets to Grammy’s house, he knocks on the door and Grammy lets him inside. But it’s not Grammy!”

“Uh-oh,” Derek says. “Who is it?”

“It’s a wolf! A wolf got into Grammy’s house! And he acts like he’s Grammy to trick Little Red Riding Hood. He wears Grammy’s clothes and gets in Grammy’s bed and tries to sound like Grammy! But Little Red Riding Hood says, ‘your voice is weird!’ And the wolf says, ‘I’m sick. Come closer and I will feel better.’ Little Red Riding Hood says, ‘Your ears are so big!’ and the wolf says, ‘I have big ears so I can hear you better!’ Little Red Riding Hood says, ‘Your eyes are so big!’ and the wolf says, ‘I have big eyes so I can see you better!’ But Little Red Riding Hood can see real good, too, and he does not think this is Grammy. He says, ‘Your teeth are so big!’ and the wolf says, ‘I have big teeth so I can bite your throat off!’”

“Stiles!” Miss Claudia admonishes from the kitchen. “We don’t talk about people getting hurt like that.”

Stiles shrugs. “It’s the story, Mama!”

Miss Claudia doesn’t press any further, so after a beat, Stiles picks up where he left off. It’s probably better this way. Derek knows a version where the wolf eats the grandmother and then a man in the woods cuts the wolf open with his axe. Maybe Stiles has heard something like that, too. And that’s not any nicer than wolves who rip throats out. Children’s fairy tales can be kind of weird.

“The wolf jumps out of bed and Little Red Riding Hood runs to the door, but the wolf is too fast! But Little Red Riding Hood still has his picnic basket, so he gives it to the wolf because he seems hungry. ‘I’ll share with you! We can both have a Happy Meal!’ Little Red Riding Hood tells him. And it makes the wolf so happy, just like Ronald McDonald says! And also ‘cause Little Red Riding Hood is sharing, and the wolf knows that sharing is caring!”

“Wow,” Derek says. “That was pretty smart and nice of Little Red Riding Hood.”

Stiles nods. “And you know what?”

“What?”

“The big bad wolf, he’s not bad at all. He’s just sad and alone. He acts mean to scare people away because he’s scared. But Little Red Riding Hood says, ‘don’t be scared of me, I’ll be your friend.’ So Little Red Riding Hood tells a joke and makes the wolf laugh! And when the wolf laughs, his teeth aren’t scary anymore. And he doesn’t -” Stiles stops abruptly before lowering his voice for a moment. “He doesn’t bite Little Red Riding Hood’s throat off.”

“Oh, I bet Little Red Riding Hood likes that!”

“He sure does! And the wolf isn’t alone in the forest anymore. Or sad. He takes care of Little Red Riding Hood, and Little Red Riding Hood takes care of him. When Little Red Riding Hood is cold, the wolf keeps him warm. The other animals never hurt Little Red Riding Hood because the wolf will bite THEIR throats off with his teeth. And the wolf has someone to run around with and play with and talk with. And they love each other and live happily ever after. The end.”

“You’re right, that was a good story,” Derek says. “I’ve heard stories like that, but never the way you told it.”

“I changed it!” Stiles says. “I like it more this way.”

“Yeah, I like that they became friends, too. But what happened to Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma?”

“Oh.” Stiles’ face screws up in thought; he’d obviously forgotten about her. “Um … she wasn’t at home because … because she was at ballroom dancing!”

Derek laughs. “Is that what your grandma does?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says with a laugh of his own. “She really likes it.”

“You know what else I wanna know?”

“What?” Stiles asks, eyes shining. His imagination is limitless.

“Did the wolf let Little Red Riding Hood have his Happy Meal toy, like Grammy does?”

“They keep their own! So they can play together all the time, two peas in a pod.”

Derek laughs again. People are always calling him and Stiles that. Either two peas in a pod, or attached at the hip, or peanut butter and jelly.

“Mama?” Stiles says. “Can I have a wolf? Please please please!”

“No, Stiles,” Miss Claudia answers firmly and immediately. “Real wolves don’t belong in houses with people.”

Stiles sulks before perking up. “Mama, can I please have some cookies?”

“Okay. But just a couple. I don’t want to spoil your dinner.”

“Yeah!” Stiles whoops as he runs off.

He comes back with four chocolate chip cookies on a blue plastic plate. With a satisfied smile, he takes his seat across from Derek and puts the plate in between them.

After Derek chews a mouthful, he whispers, “Do you really want a wolf?”

“Yeah,” Stiles laughs. “But I wanted cookies, too!”

\-----

“Are you all set for tomorrow?” Miss Claudia asks, opening the front door for Derek with Stiles right behind her.

“Yup. My mom helped me pack this morning so I’d be all done and free to play for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, good thinking. You must be so excited.”

“Yeah, Laura loved this camp last year, so I think I will, too!”

Stiles breaks away from them, backtracking to his bedroom instead of proceeding to the living room. “Where are you going?” Miss Claudia calls out.

They enter Stiles’ room and find him unzipping his Spongebob Squarepants suitcase and throwing the top open. “I’m going to camp!” Stiles answers.

“Oh, sweetie, we talked about this. Derek is going to camp with Laura. And we’re going to see Grammy.”

Stiles stops short on the way back to his closet. “I don’t go with you?” he asks, with his big, serious eyes trained on Derek. “You go without me?”

Even though Stiles is pouting at him like this truly is a surprise, Derek is pretty sure that he’d also been clear with Stiles about their separate summer plans. Honestly, he probably was - and Miss Claudia, too - but Derek supposes Stiles brushed it off since it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Or he chose to acknowledge each individual fact of where they were going, but not that all together, it meant being apart.

“Yeah, but I’ll only be there for, like, two weeks. Actually, a little less. You’ll come back from your trip the day after I get back, I think.”

“Mama, why can’t I go to camp? And then go to Grammy’s later.”

Derek and Miss Claudia exchange a quick glance. “Because this is when your daddy got approval to take time off of work,” she answers. “And this way, you and Derek won’t be at home at the same time, instead of him going to camp while you’re at home, and then him coming back while we’re gone. You won’t be away from each other as long.”

Besides, Stiles isn’t old enough to go to camp, not that he wants to hear that, either. It’s against the rules, and even if it wasn’t, he’s too young to be away from his parents for almost two whole weeks. He won’t like it and he’ll be super homesick for them. Cora isn’t going and she’s three years older than Stiles.

“It’s okay,” Derek says. “We’ll both have fun and I’ll have so many stories for you when I come back. And you’ll have stories for me.”

“But …” Stiles trails off, displeased but without a real argument.

“I know you’ll miss Derek a lot,” Miss Claudia says. “But Grammy is so excited to see you and you love playing with her. Time will fly by, I promise.”

Stiles’ mouth puckers in thought until his whole face lights up. “Derek, you come to Grammy’s house! And we’ll all play!”

“No, Stiles,” Miss Claudia says, her tone of voice firmer than before. “Derek is going to camp.”

“Sleepover?” Stiles asks, as persistent as ever.

“Stiles, I think Derek’s parents would like if it he slept at their house tonight. They won’t see him while he’s at camp, too.”

Derek has gotten more used to telling Stiles no sometimes, but boy, is he getting a lot of no’s today. “Can Stiles stay over at my house?” Derek proposes. “My parents would be happy to have him. We don’t have to get up early or anything for the bus drop-off.”

“Well, I’ll check with them to be sure,” Miss Claudia says. “And as long as you mind your p’s and q’s, buster.”

Stiles squints with one eye and then smiles. “What about my r’s and s’s?”

Miss Claudia smoothes down Stiles’ hair from his forehead to the nape of his neck. “I need you to mind all of your letters.”

“Okay, Mama!”

“My dad’s home right now,” Derek offers, “if you want to talk to him.”

Derek can only hear Miss Claudia’s side of the phone conversation, but he’s sure that Dad is saying Stiles is more than welcome. Now that he’s older, Stiles has stayed overnight at the Hales’ house several times. And as promised, he’s on his best behavior in his eagerness to please Derek’s parents, which sometimes seems more important to him than pleasing his own. He plays nicely with Cora, too. That isn’t weird, but it’s not guaranteed, either. They’re both still learning to compromise and unlike Derek with Stiles, they have no problem disagreeing with each other.

But when he sleeps over, Stiles invites her to play with them and doesn’t mind doing what she wants to do, whether it’s tea parties or army battles. He’d even let her clip some barrettes in his hair once.

“Now you’re our new little sister, Stora,” Cora said, admiring her work. Stiles hadn’t been sold, but he’d softened on it after Laura told him he looked very pretty.

When Miss Claudia confirms the good news after hanging up, Stiles jumps up and down. “Yay! Derek will read to me at bedtime and Mr. David or Miss Talia will tuck me in!”

He only stops his celebration to grab some clothes and throw them into his open suitcase. “Stiles, what are you doing?” Miss Claudia asks, more than a little confused. “You know this doesn’t change anything, right? You can spend the night next door, but you’re not going to camp with Derek.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles says, still frowning for a nanosecond. “But I gotta get ready for my sleepover!”

“Oh, honey,” Miss Claudia laughs. “You don’t need to pack a suitcase for one night. You can use your backpack like you usually do. We’ll pack your suitcase for Grammy’s house in a couple of days.”

“Okay!” Stiles shifts gears, going back to his closet for his Pikachu backpack and dropping it on the floor by Derek’s feet. “I’m not gonna see you for a long time.”

Derek pats the bed next to him and Stiles sits down. “It won’t feel that long. I’ll miss you a lot, too, but we can do different stuff sometimes. Like we go to different schools, don’t we? You’re going to preschool and I’m at the elementary school. But we always see each other again and have a whole bunch to share. I can’t wait to hear about your adventures with your grandma. Like when you go dancing with her.”

Stiles laughs so hard he falls back onto his comforter. “I don’t dance with Grammy!”

“Yes, you do,” Miss Claudia clarifies with a chuckle. “You can show Derek the new moves she teaches you later.”

“Yeah, I do,” Stiles admits, sheepishly grinning at Derek. “I’ll dance with you, too.”

\-----

Camp turns out to be pretty awesome, just like Derek hoped. He makes a lot of new friends and sleeps in a bunk bed with roommates for the first time ever, which is pretty cool. He loves having his own room at home, but constantly being around so many other kids is a good treat for a short period of time.

As much fun as he has doing activities, going on hikes, swimming in lakes, and playing games, Derek begins feeling a tiny bit homesick halfway through, even with Laura nearby. He misses Stiles something fierce, too, but manages by reminding himself that he’ll be home soon and mentally taking note of everything he wants to tell Stiles about. There’s learning to skip rocks, capture the flag, harmless pranks, and watching movies outside on a projection screen after dark … the list gets longer and longer.

When camp is over, Derek and Laura get off the bus with new tan lines and big hugs for their parents. He made presents for everyone during Arts and Crafts, too. Dad gets a keychain with a small arrowhead charm and Mom, Laura, and Cora get matching beaded necklaces. The necklaces are better than the coffee mug he painted for Father’s Day last year, but Derek is the first person to say they’re not pretty like the kind of jewelry people pay money for. That’s not the point of kid gifts anyway. Kid gifts are nice because they say, “I love you and I was thinking of you.” And Derek definitely loves them and thought about them all the time.

The Stilinskis come home before dinnertime the next day. After an exuberant reunion, Derek gives Stiles the friendship bracelet he made for him. It’s blue and orange string woven together, and Stiles can barely keep still long enough for Deputy John to tie it loosely around his wrist. Raising his arm, Derek shows Stiles an identical one he’s wearing.

“And look what I got!” Stiles says, continuing the wave of excitement as he holds out a long, bright green stuffed snake. “Because I was so good at Grammy’s!”

Derek pets the snake’s head as Stiles informs his name is Steve. “Ha!” Derek laughs. “Yeah, figures you would pick a really easy name. Hi Steve.”

“No, it’s Ssssssteve!” Stiles corrects. “He’s a snake! That’s how he talks!”

“Oh, ssssssorry, Ssssssteve!”

“Did you see any snakes at camp?”

“Uh-uh. But I’m fine with that. Ssssssteve is the only snake for me.”

“Guess what else?” Stiles turns to Miss Claudia. “Mama, can I have my drawings?”

Stiles drew a picture every day for Derek while he was on his own trip, and Miss Claudia took them all and stapled the left edges together to make a little book. “Oh, I love it - thank you!” Derek says, flipping through the pages.

“They go with my stories,” Stiles says, his cheeks flushed with happiness. “We went to Disneyland, too! I love Disneyland!”

For days, they tell each other all about their vacations. Stiles could talk about Disneyland for months, literally. Accompanied by their keepsakes, it becomes routine for them to bump wrists, bringing the circles of thread together - something they do for years until the strings fray beyond repair.

\-----

Deputy John wants to go trick-or-treating, but since he’s working on Halloween, he can’t. Policemen are very busy on holidays keeping everyone safe, so as usual, the moms take the kids out.

The door swings open to reveal a man in a Ghostface mask. “Trick or treat!” Stiles trills, his perky voice outmatching both Derek and Cora.

This is the first year Stiles is actually saying what he’s supposed to. Last year, he kept saying, “Trick and treat!” even when Miss Claudia corrected him. “But I like tricks AND treats!” Stiles had insisted.

They watch as Ghostface drops a couple of large peanut butter cups in each of their buckets. “Thank you!” Stiles, Derek, and Cora say in unison.

It’s towards the end of their night, but the appreciation for sweets is as sincere as when they first started out. They’ll only get to eat a little bit when they get home, but that just means the candy will last longer. Their moms have to check the candy to make sure it’s safe first, and then they’ll each get two pieces. Deputy John will double-check it later, too.

Last year, Stiles and Derek had dressed up as The Man in the Yellow Hat and Curious George. The neighbors really loved that. Stiles had bopped around in his monkey costume, smiling big and bright like always. He’d held Derek’s hand as they walked along, earning lots of “awww’s” from people they passed.

Deputy John had gotten a kick out of their costumes, too. “Curious Stiles,” he’d said, tugging on Stiles’ tail. “I guess that’s redundant, though.”

Derek hadn’t known that word, but when Deputy John explained it, Derek laughed and nodded. “Redundant,” he repeated. “Curious Stiles is just Stiles.”

But this year, Stiles is all about Spiderman. He’d talked about being Spiderman for Halloween for so long. At ten years old, Derek isn’t sure how much longer he’s going to dress up for Halloween - Laura doesn’t anymore - but he’s happy to go along with it. Even though he wouldn’t want to wear a cape all the time, it’s pretty fun for one day with Stiles.

They’re getting closer to their own neighborhood again as they pass houses they’ve already visited. “Derek?” Stiles says, tugging on Derek’s arm. “Can I have a ride?”

“Stiles, Derek might be tired, too.”

“I’m not - it’s okay, Miss Claudia,” Derek says. “Can you please hold our candy?”

She takes their buckets from them and Stiles immediately reaches up as Derek crouches down, close to the ground. “You got it?” Derek asks, feeling Stiles’ arms curling around his neck.

“Yep!”

Derek’s cape makes it a little bit trickier to get a good grip under Stiles’ knees, but he figures it out. By the time he stands back up, his mom and Cora, who’s dressed like a ninja, are noticeably further ahead, but not by too much.

“Spiderman’s had a long day, huh?” Miss Claudia asks. “Not enough energy to swing your way home?”

“I ran out!” Stiles demonstrates, flicking a palm towards her. “No more webs. I used them all.”

Stiles is relaxed about letting go of Derek with one arm, but Miss Claudia cautions him anyway. “Oh, be careful, Stiles. You don’t want to make it harder for Derek to carry you. Like you’re his kryptonite.”

Stiles laughs. “Mama, you’re silly!”

Derek tightens his hold on Stiles’ right leg. “Yeah, he’s my yellow sun!”

\-----

Derek doesn’t really care about which new toaster Mom ends up buying. All toasters can warm up Pop-Tarts, but he enjoys being with her, no matter what they do.

“You are so good at being right in the middle of our little pack,” Mom always tells him. “But I love our times together, just the two of us.”

As they pass the boys’ clothes section of the department store, Derek mindlessly peers at the racks. He doesn’t need any new clothes, so he’s not really interested, until he suddenly couldn’t be more interested if he tried.

“Mom!” he says, running over and grabbing the sleeve of a hanging t-shirt. “I have to get this for Stiles. I have to!”

“Hmmmmm?” Mom follows him and takes a good look at the graphic design that’s got Derek worked up so much. It’s simple - just a full white moon high on one side and a black profile silhouette of a wolf howling below it. “I thought you were saving up for a new baseball bat.”

Derek shakes his head. “I want this more.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you to buy something for someone else instead of yourself.”

“Stiles will love it!” Derek grins, already imagining Stiles’ reaction.

“Okay, how about we split it? I pay for half, you pay for half. That way, you can get your new bat soon, too.”

“Thank you!” Derek would have bought the whole thing himself, but it’s pretty cool of Mom to offer. “Can you help me pick the right size? I don’t know.”

“Sure, Derek. What color?”

The rack holds the same shirt in multiple hues, but Derek doesn’t even have to think about it. “Red.”

\-----

As anticipated, Stiles goes nuts when Derek gives him the shirt. He insists on putting it on right away and Mom did a good job with the sizing, since it fits with extra room to grow in. Stiles shows it off to everyone, including Laura and Cora, who like the wolf, too.

Even weeks afterwards, Stiles loves the shirt so much that he wants to wear it every day and makes a big fuss whenever Miss Claudia makes him wear something else.

“No, Mama!” Stiles yells. “It’s my favorite.”

“We have to wash it, Stiles. Just like all of your other clothes.”

“It’s clean!”

“Stiles, I am not going to have this argument with you every time. It’s not clean because you always wear it. And I’m not going to schedule the laundry around your bedtime when you can’t fight with me. I’m doing laundry now, and I’m going to wash this shirt.”

“But I still wanna wear it!” Stiles says, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

Stiles at his most stubborn is usually pretty amusing to Derek, as long as he’s not the target of the stubbornness. Watching with interest, he pipes up. “The thing is, Stiles - we can’t let the wolf get too stinky. That’s no good.”

Stiles is all ears. “Why not?”

“Because …” Derek says, mulling it over, “because maybe some hunters might find it.”

“Noooooooooooo,” Stiles gasps.

“Yeah, so if we keep washing your shirt so it stays clean, they’ll never know about your wolf.”

“Okay!” In his haste, Stiles pulls the shirt clumsily over his head, getting stuck halfway. “Mama, help!”

Miss Claudia manages to extract him from the fabric and holds it up to her nose. “Wooooo,” she mutters under her breath. “Here, see for yourself.”

She extends it out so that Stiles can give it a good sniff. His mouth still insists, “It’s clean!” but the expression on his face says different.

“Get a fresh outfit for you,” Miss Claudia says. “I’m going to start the washer, and when I get back, you’re going to go in the shower, too, okay? Clean clothes, clean Stiles.”

“Okay,” Stiles agrees. “But hunters can find me, I’m not scared.”

“I know you don’t scare easily,” Miss Claudia says as she leaves Stiles’ room with a full laundry basket. “But we still don’t want you to stink, either.”

“I don’t stink!” Stiles protests, loud enough so she can still hear. He easily turns his attention to his dresser, hemming and hawing. Finally, he pulls out some blue plaid pajamas and tosses them onto his bed before returning to the topic just as quickly. “Do I stink?”

Derek laughs. “No, not yet. Just wait until you have to start wearing deodorant.”

Stiles cocks his head in full puppy mode. “What’s that?”

“It’s this stuff you rub on your armpits so you don’t smell bad when you sweat.”

“Oh!” A light bulb turns on over Stiles’ head. “My daddy has that! He does this!” Stiles holds one arm up in the air and brushes his other hand against his bare underarm. “And he puts cream all over his face and wipes it off like this!” Stiles runs a hand against one side of his face, and then the other. “And he has a stick that goes bzzzzzzzz and he puts it in his nose! Should I do that?”

Derek can’t help but laugh again. “No, you don’t need to. Not until later. Just brush your teeth and wash your hands when your mom wants you to.”

“She wants me to A LOT,” Stiles says.

“I want you to what?” Miss Claudia asks, reappearing.

Stiles giggles. “Behave.”

“That’s right,” she nods, affectionately poking Stiles in the belly button. “And thank you for eventually listening to me so I could wash your shirt.”

“I take care of my wolf,” Stiles says, grinning with pride at Derek.

“Yeah,” Derek smiles in return. “You sure do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I hope you are faring well. Our priority is to stay safe and mentally/physically healthy! Please enjoy more happy Sterek in these less happy times.
> 
> I took a writing break around the holidays that lasted longer than I expected or wanted. But I’m back and will 100% be finishing this story! I know exactly how it ends and how Derek and Stiles will get there. If you would like to leave any feedback, please feel free to do so! Now that I’ve finished the next chapter, I’m crawling out of my proverbial cave to catch up on replying to comments.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> [Posted 03/28/20]

They’ve only been seated at the restaurant for a moment when Stiles makes quite the request.

“Can I have a baby?”

He has everyone’s attention now. “Oh, what’s that, honey?” Miss Claudia asks, putting her menu down. “You mean, you’re asking about a little brother or sister?”

Stiles gives a hearty nod. “Yeah! I wanna be like Derek and I want a baby to be me.”

Deputy John and Miss Claudia lock eyes and share a warm, gentle laugh. It’s obvious they’re not laughing AT Stiles.

Stiles smiles toothily across the table at Derek, warm in his own way, but not really gentle at all. More high-spirited than anything. This is how they usually sit when Derek goes out with the Stilinskis - Miss Claudia and Deputy John sit opposite each other, and one of them sits next to Stiles in case he needs help with his meal or any kind of closer management.

After Stiles had barely outgrown his crib, he went through a short period of toting one of Cora’s baby dolls around everywhere, but Derek doesn’t think he remembers that. Derek does, though. He remembers the way Stiles would pet the doll’s head and hug it close to him all the time.

“Derek was five when I was born, and I’m six now,” Stiles continues. “That’s more than five. So do I get a baby?”

“Well, having babies is different for everybody,” Deputy John says. “Some people have lots of babies, while others don’t have any. And some people have somewhere between no babies and many babies. Plus, people don’t have babies at a set age, all the time. It’s not like you’re a certain age, so boom, here’s a baby. It’s not like a senior citizen discount.”

“What’s a senior citizen?”

“Actually, that’s like the opposite of a baby. It’s an older person who has lived a long time.”

“Are you a senior citizen?”

Deputy John cracks up. “No, buddy. I’m older than you, that’s true, but a senior citizen is older than me. That’s more like 55, 60, 65 years old - like that.”

“Oh, okay. So I don’t get one?”

When Stiles is really interested in something, he has a one-track mind, so Derek isn’t surprised that he’s still got baby fever.

“Well, to be honest, Stiles,” Miss Claudia says, “we’re so happy with you and our family, and we’re not sure if we’ll have another kid. Like your daddy said, a baby isn’t something that just appears all by itself. Babies are made and sometimes it’s not easy to make one, even when you want one.”

“Mmmmm, yeah.” Stiles puts the brakes on his hopeful plea as he thinks this over. “I’m happy with you, too! I love you. And I love Derek and Laura and Cora, and all my friends, and Grammy, and Mr. David and Miss Talia.”

Deputy John nods. “You have so many people who love you and you love back. So we hope it’s okay that we don’t have another baby right now. And you get us all to yourself.”

“I like that part!” Stiles giggles. “But how do I get my own baby? When I’m old enough?”

Deputy John laughs, too. “You want the short before-dinner version?”

“Yeah! Derek, do you know how to get a baby?”

“Yep, I do.”

Derek’s parents are really into nature, so they had an easy time telling him. He knows the actual words for body parts, what people do with them, and why they do it. Stiles probably isn’t ready for all of that yet, though. He’s such a little smartie, but he’s still only six.

Deputy John props his chin on his hand. “Where do you think babies come from, Stiles?”

“Um,” Stiles says, “it’s not the stork. The stork is just a cartoon, he’s not real. The stork can’t fly around with a baby in his mouth. I can’t do that. And I don’t think the stork is bigger than me. The baby is in the mama’s belly, anyway. Because mamas are so good at keeping them safe until it’s time to come out and play. Like in those pictures of Mama before I was born. Or Mrs. Mendoza down the street. Her belly is getting bigger and bigger. The mama doesn’t need the stork to bring the baby.”

“That’s correct. The stork is just for fun.”

“The mama takes a part from her and the daddy takes a part from him and they give them to make a baby. Like when people say to me, ‘you have a dimple just like your mama’ or ‘you ask a lot of questions, you got that from your daddy,’ that’s ‘cause I’m made of you guys.”

Deputy John puckers his mouth to the side. “Yeah, I mean … you got the basics.”

Derek smiles and taps Stiles’ foot with the toe of his shoe. It’s only a matter of time until Stiles has Santa all figured out, too.

“We can always talk about this more later,” Miss Claudia says. “You can always ask us about anything. We’ll keep talking about these things as you get older, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.”

A young man with a small notepad approaches the table. “Hi folks, my name is Jake and I’ll be serving you today. I’m so sorry about the wait.”

Miss Claudia waves his concern away. “Oh, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. We were having a very stimulating conversation in the meantime.”

“Perfect! I bet it was these two, right?” Jake points at Stiles and Derek with two fingers from the same hand. “I can tell. What drinks can I get you started with?”

“They like the grown-up juice!” Stiles chirps before his parents can answer. “The red one! In the grown-up glasses on sticks.”

Deputy John and Miss Claudia laugh again. This time, Deputy John hides his mouth behind his hand and she puts her arm around Stiles, who looks simultaneously pleased to delight his parents and confused about why telling these facts is so funny. “Oh, this observant little monkey,” Miss Claudia says.

“He’s not wrong, though.” Deputy John winks at Stiles. “Can we get a couple glasses of your cabernet?”

“I don’t get any,” Stiles says, “‘cause I don’t pay taxes.”

Jake laughs. “Oh, don’t be too sad about that. Taxes aren’t very fun. What can I get for you non-taxpaying kids instead?”

Miss Claudia turns to Stiles. “You can have juice or dessert, but not both. So if you want dessert, we’ll get you water, okay?”

“Dessert!” Stiles crows, looking to Derek for agreement. “Mama, can I sit next to Derek when we get it?”

“Of course.”

After dinner, Stiles lets Derek choose which dessert to share because Stiles wants everything and can’t pick just one. Ultimately, Derek asks for a slice of cherry pie. So sweet but a little tart at the same time, just like Stiles.

Derek and Miss Claudia trade places so Derek and Stiles can sit elbow-to-elbow as they eat. They playfully claim the remaining cherries and the last dollop of whipped cream while Stiles’ parents nurse a cappuccino.

Deputy John kisses Miss Claudia on the cheek. “We made a good one, huh?” he says.

“Yeah,” she agrees, resting her head against Deputy John’s shoulder. “And he found a good one, too.”

\-----

Derek’s ears perk up when he hears the garage door open. With Cora on his heels, he runs out to greet Dad and their visitor.

“Hey, Uncle Peter!” Derek says.

Peter closes the passenger door behind him as he gets out of the car. “Hey, dude!”

Cora runs forward for a hug and Peter is happy to oblige. “Hey, dudette.”

Derek and Peter don’t have a lot of common, but he still thinks Peter is like a cool and interesting older brother. Peter is over ten years older and about to start his senior year at NYU soon, so he’s got a lot of good stories. He’s also very slick and cares a lot about how he looks and what he has, but that doesn’t bother Derek, though. He doesn’t know anyone like Peter and they get along well, despite their differences.

A blur of color zooms over from next door. Stiles must have seen them through a window.

“Uncle Peter, Uncle Peter!”

Stiles comes to a stop in the Hales’ front yard. “Oh, you can’t be Stiles,” Peter says. “Stiles is little.”

“It’s me, it’s me!” Stiles insists, raising his arms in anticipation of his own hug. “I’m big now!”

“Hmmmm, really?” Peter grabs him at his unprotected waist. “Uh-oh, you’re ticklish like Stiles!”

Stiles can’t get a word in edgewise, he’s laughing so hard. Peter turns Stiles’ head to the side and surveys his profile. “Wait, let’s see - one, two, three, four … too many moles to count. I guess you are Stiles!”

“I told ya!” Stiles raises his chin triumphantly and jumps up, where Peter awkwardly catches him before setting him back down.

With his feet on solid ground again, Stiles runs over to grab the handles of Peter’s duffel bag resting on the chalk remnants of the previous hopscotch games between Cora and Stiles. He’s outmatched, though, in size and strength.

“I got it, squirt,” Peter says, taking his luggage with his right hand while Stiles tails him closely on his left side.

“Are you gonna go hiking with us tomorrow?”

“Are YOU going hiking with US tomorrow?” Peter quips.

“Yeah!”

“Well, we’re all going hiking then!”

Stiles talks up a storm the rest of the afternoon before Peter goes out with friends later. Stiles and Peter are very different, too, but Derek can still see the similarities. They both like mischief, except Stiles is pretty harmless with his. It’s not that Peter is harmful, but he really bends the rules. Stiles is very interested in people. Peter isn’t - at least not in the same way; there are some people Peter has less than zero interest in - but he can make someone feel like the only one in the room, just like Stiles does.

Sometimes they even smile the same impish way. Derek has heard Mom use a phrase many times when talking about Peter - “he’d rather ask for forgiveness than ask for permission” - and if Derek understands it correctly, he thinks it applies to Stiles, too.

The next day, as promised, the Hales head out with Stiles for a hike in the Beacon Hills Preserve.

“Are you bringing Steve?” Dad asks Stiles before they leave their houses.

“It’s Ssssssteve,” Stiles and Derek correct in unison.

“Oops, sorry. Are you bringing Ssssssteve?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t want him to get in a fight with another snake, if we see one.”

Unsurprisingly, it’s a super fun afternoon. His loved ones and the outdoors, one of Derek’s favorite combinations. Stiles is wearing an old pair of Cora’s sunglasses - yellow plastic frames in the shape of hearts - and Mom makes sure to keep him covered up with sunscreen.

Stiles treks by Peter for a large portion of their hike, never at a loss for conversation, as random as it may be. Derek walks with them, sometimes chiming in but otherwise just listening as Stiles expresses all of the thoughts in his head.

“Uncle Peter, do you like stripes? I LOVE stripes!”

“Are pancakes and waffles like brother and sister, or are they best friends?”

“Why is it called a Preserve? My mama uses preserves on our toast.”

When Stiles isn’t walking with Peter, he floats easily between the other Hales like he’s family. He basically IS part of their family - he just wasn’t born into it like they were.

Mom surveys around them and unslings her backpack. “This is a nice place to take a lunch break. Come on, kids. Let’s rest and eat for a bit.”

“Ahhhhhhhhh,” Laura says, sitting down on a grassy patch to take the weight off her feet and stretch her legs. Stiles sits beside her and imitates while they both giggle.

Mom and Dad pass around the food they prepared that morning, and it isn’t until Derek is unwrapping his sandwich that he realizes what an appetite he’s worked up.

Stiles looks up at Derek with his heart-eyes. “Share?” he requests.

Mom packed the exact same turkey sandwiches for all of the kids, but Derek trades one half of his anyway.

“Yours is better,” Stiles says after swallowing a mouthful. “It’s so yummy.”

Derek laughs. “Yeah, yours tastes better, too.”

\-----

It’s not purposely boys vs. girls, but that’s how it works out that night. Laura really wants to see a movie that just came out in theaters, so Mom takes her and Cora while Dad rounds up everyone else for a trip to the pizza place.

“I have a group of guys I hang out with a lot in New York,” Peter says. “We call it ‘the wolfpack.’ But you know, I think like our group of guys here even more.”

Stiles grins. “I have a wolf t-shirt! Derek gave it to me. It’s my favorite! It’s small for me now, but I love it so much I don’t care.”

“Oh, good. So I take it that you like being part of the Hale wolfpack?”

“Yes!” Stiles exclaims, flailing ungracefully with excitement. Derek would be a little worried he’d fall out of his chair if he wasn’t already seated firmly.

Once their pizza is dropped off at the table, they happily dig into their first slices of cheesy goodness. Dad has only taken a few bites when a man gesturing a few feet away catches his eye.

He sets his food down and wipes his hands on a napkin. “Oh, my co-worker is here. I’m gonna go over and talk to him for a little bit, okay? I think he wants me to meet his new lady friend.”

“Okay, Dad.” Derek recognizes the man - Ben? - from family events Dad’s company has held over the years, so he waves his mildly greasy fingers. “Uncle Peter is the adult watching us now.”

Dad and Peter laugh, and Peter puts on his most responsible face, like Dad needs reassurance as he leaves. “Don’t worry, even I can manage to sit here and stuff my face with these two.”

Peter’s not a kid like them, but he’s not like Mom and Dad, either. Derek can talk to Peter about things he might not talk to his parents about. Or he can ask Peter about things and get a really different answer than the one his parents would give.

“Are you dating anyone?” Derek asks. He doesn’t really need confirmation, though. Peter is always dating.

Peter nods. “Yeah, I went out with a few girls last semester.”

“So you’re not serious about them?”

“No, not serious like we’re exclusive and I see us having a real future together. I haven’t met anyone like that yet. That’s fine with me. I think I’m too young to settle down with one person like that anytime soon.”

“How do you know when you want to be serious with a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, how do you know when you wanna get married?” Stiles asks. “Married is the most serious.”

“It just depends on what you’re looking for. That’s usually different for each person. And sometimes it changes over time. Like I probably won’t think I’m too young to get married or haven’t had enough of my own experiences 20 years from now.”

“What you’re looking for?” Stiles repeats.

“Yeah, Stiles, everyone has things they want in a husband or wife, and what they want out of a relationship. Sometimes, it takes a while to figure that out, too. Two people have to be compatible.” Before Stiles can ask, Peter explains further. “Compatible means it’s a good match. Let’s say you have two people, and one of them is a daredevil and loves to do kind of dangerous things all the time. And the other doesn’t like to do that at all. Those people are not compatible - it’s not a good match - if they want to do everything together. But if they’re okay having different hobbies and doing things separately, they might be compatible.”

Derek nods. “It’s a lot more than just getting along, right? You can have a lot of friends, but when you marry someone, you pick just them. That’s the one person you marry.”

“Yes. Some people feel like their husband or wife is their best friend, too. But not everyone does - like I said, it can be different for everyone. But usually when you’re married, you build a life together. That’s why I just like to go out and have fun with girls for now. Because I’m not ready for all of that big stuff. When you share a life, I think you need to want enough of the same things, or want the same important things, if that makes sense. That’s part of being compatible. You don’t make big decisions by yourself anymore. Where you want to live, if you want to have kids -”

“I can’t wait to make a baby!” Stiles announces. “That’s gonna be so fun.”

Peter barks out an explosive laugh before catching himself and lowering his volume. “Oh yeah. A lot of people really enjoy trying to do that.”

Derek laughs, too. It’s impossible not to.

“Yeah, see, since you want to have kids later, you want to be with someone else who wants them, too. It can be a problem if you want them and your wife doesn’t. You can disagree on things, but you have to be able to handle those disagreements and hopefully be happy. I really want a dog once I have a real place of my own to live, so I couldn’t be married to someone who says no and won’t let me.”

Stiles leans forward over the table. “I want a puppy.”

“So you’re like me, you need to be with someone who wants one.”

“I want two puppies!” Stiles revises.

Peter chuckles. “Well, then you go find yourself someone who wants two puppies like you do.”

Derek shrugs. He loves dogs, too, and can’t imagine not wanting one or two himself.

“What about you, young man?” Peter looks at Derek with teasing eyes. “Are you dating?”

Derek blushes hotly. “Uncle Peter, I’m only almost 12.”

“I know,” Peter says, letting him off the hook. “But you’re going to have the girls swarming all over you in no time. You’re a good kid, Derek. And you’re going to grow up to be very handsome. It’s in your genes. Trust me, you’ll be the SECOND most handsome man in your bloodline.”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees. “After my dad.”

Derek keeps a straight face as Peter’s jaw reflexively drops, but Derek can’t hold it very long before he starts cracking up.

“See that?” Peter says. “Girls like a sense of humor.”

Grabbing another slice of pizza, Derek methodically picks off most of the olives before moving them to Stiles’ plate. Olive are just okay to him, but Stiles loves them.

“Olive you. Get it, Stiles? Olive. I love. You.”

Stiles giggles. “Olive you, too!”

In return, Derek retrieves a few of the mushrooms from Stiles’ slice. They both know Derek enjoys them more than Stiles does.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m such a fun guy.” It’s so corny, but Derek kind of likes corny jokes. “Did you know another word for mushrooms is fungi? I’m a fun guy who likes fungi.”

“You’re the funnest,” Stiles says, jabbing at an olive slice with his finger to try to pick it up.

“Oh, it’s like a ring,” Peter notes.

Even Stiles’ pinky is too big for any of the olives, but Derek brings the slice up to the tip of Stiles’ littlest finger anyway and gives it a nudge. They all laugh when it predictably breaks at the pressure, breaking the closed loop. Forming a “U” shape instead, it falls back down on Stiles’ plate.

Peter shakes his head with a smile. “You guys are such a funny little pair.”

“Thank you!” Stiles says, his shoulders square with pride.

Dad jogs back over and takes his seat. “Sorry about that, guys. I’m all yours for the rest of the night. What did I miss?”

“How did you know you wanted to marry Mom?”

Dad raises an eyebrow exaggerated with humor. “Oh wow, Derek. Hit me with the big guns, why don’t you? Well, there were a lot of reasons.”

“I love that your mom is so smart and vocal about her opinions. She challenges me out of my comfort zone, but at the same time, she’s so easy to be with. She’s the first person I want to tell when something good or bad happens. But it’s not really about checking qualities off a list, like, yes, she’s this or no, she’s not that. I just feel so happy with her, and I’m a better man with her. We fit together really well. We value a lot of the same things and she’s always thinking about what’s best for us and our family.”

Derek nods along as Dad speaks. Every now and then, his parents and Peter say the same thing. This seems like one of those overlapping times, and they make a lot of sense.

“In business, there’s something called synergy. When you bring things together, they form something better than each of those things by themselves, added up. That’s what I have with Mom. But even though we love each other so much, things don’t go perfectly all the time. We make mistakes, we misunderstand each other, and sometimes, we don’t have enough time or energy for each other. But we’re willing to do whatever we need to have a good, healthy marriage. I don’t think I would do a lot of the things I do for her with anyone else. Sometimes it’s hard, but that’s part of why it’s so special when you find the person you want to give your whole heart to.”

Stuff like this is really far off for Derek - he hasn’t even kissed a girl yet - but Dad and Peter have given him a lot to think about when it’s not so distant.

“But really, the number one reason?” Dad tilts forward like he’s about to share top secrets. “I married your mom because she makes the best fried chicken I’ve ever had.”

Derek laughs. “I love her fried chicken.”

“Me too!” Stiles says.

“Me three,” Peter echoes, holding up a finger.

Stiles swallows a long sip of water and sets his cup down. “Mr. David, is Miss Talia your best friend?”

“Yep. She was and she still is.”

Stiles picks up the broken olive slice and hangs it back on his pinky. “Cool.”

\-----

“Why are you sad?” Stiles asks, sitting up from the race track he’s almost done setting up in the Stilinskis’ living room.

“What do you mean?” On the other side of the track, Derek smiles for good measure. “I just got here. And I’m not sad.”

Stiles pushes the toy cars aside and looks straight at him. “Yeah, you are. How come?”

Derek starts to smile again, but he stops when he thinks a bit harder about why he’s doing that. It’s not a secret or anything. And even if it was, there’s nothing he can’t talk to Stiles about.

“Well, I had a game today.”

Sometimes Stiles comes to watch his baseball games, but he wasn’t at this one. There are a lot of them over the course of the season, which is almost over as it is. Even if he’s free at the time, it can be a lot for Stiles to sit through all of the innings.

“Oh yeah!”

“We lost. A ground ball got past me, and by the time I scooped it up and threw it to home base, the other team had already scored two runs. We didn’t catch up, so they beat us.”

“Oh no!” Stiles gasps. “I don’t like that.”

“My dad took me out for milkshakes afterwards. He says it’s natural to feel bad, but not to forget that I tried my best, and that’s what counts the most, too. Being my best is trying my hardest and being a good sport. What happens after that isn’t always going to be what I want.”

Derek has a pretty decent understanding of sportsmanship and how no one wins all the time, but it’s not as easy to practice as it is to talk about, so he still struggles with it sometimes. Playing sports means losing sometimes. Actually, life means losing sometimes. And Derek’s team has lost before many times, and Derek has messed up before, but this game mattered and he hates letting people down. He loves being part of a team and he always wants to do well for his teammates.

“It’s not that bad, I guess.” Derek shrugs. “Losing today doesn’t mean we’re out of the playoffs. But now next week’s game is super important. We really have to win that one or that’s the end of our season. So I hope I play a lot better then.”

“You will,” Stiles says, the two words oozing with confidence.

“Thanks, Stiles. It means a lot that you think so.”

Stiles stands up and bounds around the track, plopping down next to Derek. “I’m sorry you’re sad,” he says. “I want you to be happy!”

His energy is pretty much always contagious, so Derek can’t help but smile again, except this time it’s real - not kind of forced like before. “I am. I mean, I was sad - you were right - but being around you always cheers me up.”

Stiles hugs him with his typical force, and Derek really does instantly feel better.

“Do you wanna play outside?” Stiles asks. “I don’t wanna race cars anymore.”

“Are you sure? You’re almost ready to go.”

“Yep.”

Derek helps Stiles take apart the track he’d spent quite a bit of time putting together and then follows him out to the backyard, calling out to Deputy John where to find them.

Miss Claudia had signed Stiles up for a kids’ soccer league because she needed another outlet for him to play himself to tiredness, so Derek grabs the soccer ball and they kick it around for a while. Stiles runs all over the place way more than he makes contact with the ball, but he enjoys it all the same.

“Can you help me with my bat?” Stiles asks, shifting gears.

“Sure, okay.”

They use the tee ball set first, which Stiles is pretty used to, but it’s helpful to start out there. Whether Stiles can hit the ball is more certain, and that allows Derek to give him pointers.

Usually, Stiles is mostly concerned with having fun. Technique is secondary to that. But today, Stiles listens to everything Derek says and does everything Derek guides him to do. By the time they put the tee ball to the side and Derek lobs easy, close pitches, Stiles is the most consistent Derek has ever seen.

Stiles gets a particularly successful hit off and he watches the ball soar high and far across the backyard in awe. “I did it so good!” Stiles rejoices, throwing his arms up. “You’re so good and you made me good, too!”

When Stiles eventually has enough of batting practice, they move on to playing catch. The sting of his earlier game fades to the background for Derek as the ball travels back and forth. It feels really nice to play for the sake of playing again, when it’s all just for fun and who cares if anyone hits a ball or is safe on base or catches anything.

One of Stiles’ throws goes a little wild, but Derek still manages to catch it anyway. “You win!” Stiles says.

Derek laughs. “We’re not keeping any kind of score.”

Stiles just shrugs. “You’re the best! So you win!”

\-----

It’s the big game and Derek’s team is down by one run at the bottom of the last inning. Part of him been hoping he wouldn’t be at bat in a pivotal moment, but here he is, with Boyd on first base, DJ on second, and two outs on the scoreboard.

As he approaches home plate, Derek sneaks a peek at his family in the first row of the stands. Dad gives him a thumbs up. Cora and Stiles are on their feet, cheering.

Refocusing on the game, Derek breathes in deeply and out slowly. He can do this. He can get a base hit, at least. Or he’ll even happily take a walk at this point. Anything that’ll keep his team and their playoff hopes alive. Bases loaded still means they’re down by one run, but the team will be one step closer to tying and going to extra innings.

A high-pitched wave of noise makes its way into his ears. He doesn’t have to turn around to know who is making the noise. Cora and especially Stiles are absolutely screaming for him at this point.

The other team’s catcher nods his chin in the general direction of the shrieks. “They yours?”

Derek laughs under his breath as he raises the bat. It feels good in his hands. “Yeah.”

“That’s cool,” the catcher says. “My siblings never want to come to my games.”

Even though Derek and Stiles don’t look much like brothers, it’s a reasonable assumption under the circumstances. And Cora and Stiles do look related, with their brown hair and soft, cherubic faces that disguise their true levels of spunk and sass. Stiles is catching up to her in height, too, which thrills him to no end, and makes them passable as siblings - maybe even fraternal twins.

The first pitch is too high and Derek checks his swing early enough that it counts as a ball instead of a strike. He swings at and misses the next pitch. It’s okay, though. It’s not over yet.

Derek briefly closes his eyes and all he hears are the encouraging cheers. He completely commits to his next swing, no longer thinking of what could go wrong. Once he feels and hears his bat loudly smack into the ball, he’s off like a shot, sprinting towards first base.

He’s about halfway there when he checks the outfield for his ball and it’s still sailing through the air, out of reach, until it disappears behind the fence. Derek keeps rounding the bases, adrenaline pumping, and when he gets back to home plate, Boyd and DJ are waiting for him.

The end of the game comes and goes in a rush as he’s surrounded by his fired up teammates and shakes hands with the other team. They’re going to the playoffs! Derek almost doesn’t even care how they do at that stage. He’s just happy with how far they’ve gone.

When he meets up with his family and Stiles, he’s still on cloud nine on the inside, but he’s calmed back down to normal levels of chill on the outside.

“You were amazing, Derek,” Mom says. “That’s the most exciting game I’ve been to in a long time!”

Dad squeezes his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. You came back after feeling down last week and played as well as you could. Win or lose, that’s all we really ask of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Derek says, trying and failing to suppress his grin.

“So how about we stop for another round of milkshakes? Celebratory ones this time.”

“Yeah, milkshakes!” Stiles hurrahs. “‘Cause they bring you good luck!”

Derek teasingly pushes down the bill of Stiles’ cap. “Um, I don’t think it’s the milkshakes.”

\-----

Derek plucks an apple slice from the plate of after-school snacks Laura made and chews thoughtfully as he listens to Stiles.

“And then Tommy said, ‘What kind of name is Stiles?’ like it’s weird or something,” Stiles says, swinging his legs back and forth under his chair at the kitchen counter. “So I said, ‘It’s the best name ever! I love it!’ and glared at him real big.”

“Uh-oh,” Derek says. “You didn’t hit him, did you?”

“Nope. I’m not supposed to hit. But Mrs. Newton saw us and she heard us, so she made us say sorry. And she said everyone is different, and that’s a good thing. And we had to say something about each other that’s different, but we like it.”

“What did you say?” Laura asks.

“I said I like his green shoes. I don’t have any green shoes, and Tommy’s shoes are cool. He said he likes my jokes ‘cause they make him laugh and he can’t think of them. And then Mrs. Newton told us to shake hands like gentlemen.”

Laura nods. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“I know, I should be nice. I like being nice. But you know what else? When someone is mean to me, I don’t wanna be a gentleman!” Stiles’ expression turns indignant. “I wanna be a little punk.”

“Well …” Laura starts, biting her lip to cover up her smile. She doesn’t finish her thought, because it’s not like Stiles’ feelings are totally unreasonable. Derek’s in fifth grade and people are usually courteous to him, but he’s seen some bad - even awful - behavior before. And Laura’s a thirteen-year-old girl, so she definitely knows, too. Middle school can be kind of rough. He’s a little nervous about going there next year.

“But there are other kids you like,” Derek says. “That’s who I think about, not the ones I don’t.”

“Oh yeah! Scott is my best friend at school,” Stiles says. “He’s super nice! And fun! He plays with me and sits with me. But you’re my BEST friend.”

Derek laughs. “You’re allowed to have more than one best friend, Stiles.”

“You’re my most best friend,” Stiles insists. “And Heather is my best girl friend.”

“Is she your girlfriend, or your girl-space-friend?” Laura asks, popping the last slice of apple in her mouth.

Stiles’ eyes spark with interest. “I met her here. On earth. How do I get a space friend?”

She just ruffles his hair and heads out of the kitchen. Stiles doesn’t hesitate to slide out of his seat, chasing after her. “Laura! How do I get a space friend?”

Derek rinses off their snack plate and loads it into the dishwasher. On his way to his room, he hears music turn on behind Laura’s door and sees no sign of Stiles, so that basically means one thing - they’re having a dance party.

Laura’s too cool for almost everything now. Derek heard Mom tell Dad once that she’s going through a phase and hopefully it doesn’t last that long. But even so, Laura has a real soft spot for Stiles, who cares about everything.

She’s in no hurry to do her homework. While Derek’s usually more or less the same, he sits down at his desk and cracks open his math book. If he can finish his assignment, he’ll be able to hang out with Stiles later without that looming over him.

Derek is about halfway done with his problem set when Laura’s door opens and Stiles darts into Derek’s room.

“All danced out?”

Stiles nods and hovers at Derek’s desk. “That’s a 4!” he says, pointing at a digit in Derek’s textbook. “And that’s a 7! 4 plus 7 is 11!”

“Yup. Good job, Stiles.”

“I’m gonna do work, too,” Stiles declares, even though he doesn’t really have that kind of homework of his own yet. His teacher usually asks the kids to do stuff like help their parents at home and talk about it the next day during Share Time, or read a familiar book before bed.

“Okay,” Derek says, getting up to pull over the extra chair he keeps in a corner for when one of his parents is helping him or Stiles is over.

As Stiles climbs up, Derek gives him a couple sheets of paper from his binder. Holding a pencil with determination, Stiles painstakingly writes his name at the top while Derek finishes a math problem.

“Can you give me a word?” Stiles asks.

“Sure. Why don’t you try … supercalifragilistic?”

Stiles laughs sharply. “That’s too hard!”

“Okay, I guess. How about expialidocious?”

“That’s harder!”

Derek laughs with him. “Yeah, I don’t know how to spell them, either. I’m not even sure if Mary Poppins does. Here, I’ll pick something else. Can you write Sunday?”

“I know that one!” Stiles perks up in his chair and begins to form the letters one-by-one without prompting.

Derek goes back to his homework until he sees Stiles stop writing out of the corner of his eye. “You got it,” he says after checking Stiles’ paper. “And did you know that there are two different words? Sunday like the day is with a y, like you wrote. But ice cream sundaes - that’s with an e, not a y. S-u-n-d-a-e.”

“An e?!” Stiles asks, crinkling his nose as his mind is blown. “Okay …”

He puts pencil to paper and so does Derek. The next time Derek peeks over, Stiles is drawing something off to the side that vaguely resembles ice cream, so Derek figures he’ll entertain himself or otherwise speak up.

Still, Derek checks on him a couple minutes later and can’t help but laugh again, this time at what Stiles has written underneath his somewhat uneven letters spelling out “sundae.”

“Oh, there’s no such thing as mondae with an e,” Derek corrects with a grin. “It’s only sundae with an e. But there is Monday with a y.”

Stiles slaps his forehead with an escalating giggle. “I know, words are so weird sometimes,” Derek continues. “And there are so many of them. More than you can ever learn in your whole life. But at least this way, you’ll never run out of things to learn.”

“I love learning!”

“Yeah, I know you do. It’s one of my favorite things about you. So let’s see … do you know how to write … potato?”

They fall into an easy pattern. Derek supplies suggestions, spelling them out when necessary, and Stiles does his best to scrawl them down correctly. He’s easily distracted with more doodles or unrelated chatter, so that gives Derek more downtime in between words.

It takes Derek longer to finish his math problems, but he’s kind of getting the best of both worlds - slowly getting his homework out of the way and being with Stiles. Not as good as finishing quickly and playing at the same time, but that’s not even possible anyway, so this will do.

They’re always going to be five years apart. While it would probably be easier if they were the same age, Derek doesn’t mind. They’ve always been five years apart, so he’s pretty used to it. He loves it, really. He has plenty of friends at school and sports that are his age. But he’s only got one Stiles.

Dad talks a lot about stuff like work ethic and integrity, and that anything that’s worth it involves work. Sometimes Derek’s friendship with Stiles requires work, but it doesn’t really feel like it. It’s just how they are together.

Besides, he and Stiles are going to be best friends for their entire lives. Someday, the age difference will hardly matter at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How old is Peter?? I have no idea. I made him 10+ years older than Derek and 15+ years older than Stiles, but I don’t think he was 31-33 throughout the course of the actual show. Or maybe he was??? Who knows. I mean, I guess the actor was 34 when season 1 was filming, so … I don’t know, guys! It’s Teen Wolf math! Give me “Good Will Hunting” math on an MIT hallway chalkboard any day and I’ll think it’s way more solvable than Teen Wolf!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Please enjoy this latest chapter. I’m about halfway done with the next one, too. Yay for my writer’s guilt! And speaking of writer’s guilt, I’m currently resolving to catch up on comment replies. I always mean to, but then I spend any time devoted to fanfic to just writing as I simultaneously hide from the shame spiral of not yet replying. But believe me, feedback means the world to me and makes my day! I want to make sure to close the feedback loop and let each person know directly, though. It’s the very least I can do for those who took the time out to drop me a line - thank you!
> 
> It’s a rough 2020 for most/all of us thus far, so I hope you’re doing reasonably okay at this time. If this chapter/story makes you smile, then I’ve put something good out into the ether and I’m so happy to try to do that. I am an adult with a “serious career” (whatever that means), but fanfic is generally so underrated as a source of joy, entertainment, and escape. Fiction may not be real, but what it provides to writers and readers (myself included) certainly is.
> 
> Please stay safe!
> 
> [Posted 5/31/20]

They usually get rides home from school, but not on Tuesdays. Mom takes Cora straight to karate class and Mrs. Stilinski has gone back to work as a librarian, now that Stiles is in third grade. Derek walks home instead, picking Stiles up along the way since he passes the elementary school.

Neither of them mind - the walk isn’t too far and they like the time together. Once Derek goes to high school next year, they won’t be able to do stuff like this. He’ll have sports and extracurriculars after class, and even if he didn’t, the high school is in a different direction.

Derek’s running behind today since Mrs. Gatlin asked him to come by after last period so they could talk about Derek’s science fair questions. Derek isn’t the biggest fan of science, mostly because he doesn’t think he’s naturally good at it, but he’s trying to embrace it more. Stiles loves hearing about the things he’s learning.

When Stiles sees Derek approaching, he stands up from his seat on the steps outside his closed classroom door. “Dude, chill,” he yells with a wave. “Don’t need to run.”

Derek slows to a normal walking speed as Stiles tucks a book away. “Sorry, sorry,” Derek apologizes profusely.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it! Mrs. McCall offered me a ride when she picked up Scott, but I said no thanks. ‘Cause I knew you would come.”

“I had to talk to one of my teachers. That’s why I’m so late.”

“You know, we wouldn’t be at different schools if we had just followed my plan.”

They both laugh, remembering Stiles’ bright idea a year ago that was promptly rejected by his parents. No, Stiles will not be skipping three grades while Derek is held back twice so they can be in the same grade.

“Were you bored after Scott left?”

“Nah.” Stiles reaches behind him to tap his backpack. “I was reading about the Bermuda Triangle. Do you think people really disappear?!”

Derek smiles. Not because disappearing people is funny, but it’s a classic Stiles topic. “I don’t know. That’s way over my head.”

They reach a stoplight and wait for the go-ahead to cross. “Hey, how’s everything going with your doctor?” Derek asks.

Stiles shrugs, tapping the toe of his right shoe against the ground. “It’s okay.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m here if you want to.”

After some recent discussions between the Stilinskis and Stiles’ teacher this year, plus his teacher last year, Stiles has been seeing his pediatrician more often. The diagnosis is ADHD. Derek’s heard of it before, but he didn’t know very many details. Ever since Stiles told him about it, Derek has been using a lot of his screen time allowance to look things up online. Mom even gave him an extra half hour on Saturday and told him to do fun stuff, but he still spent half of it reading more ADHD websites.

“I didn’t help him,” he told Mom. “I should have been a better friend.”

“Oh, no, sweetie,” Mom reassured. “You’re the best friend Stiles could ever have.”

Maybe that’s true - Derek hopes it’s true, anyway - but he still wonders a little. Reflecting on the years growing up with Stiles, he’s honestly never noticed any problems. Well - it’s not like he was totally unaware. But Stiles’ behavior never bothered him.

Of course, though, Derek’s always known Stiles to be full of energy, letting it out constantly. It’s what he’s used to. It’s pretty standard to play with Stiles as he’s bouncing around to different activities, even if Derek is doing them with him. It just never felt like a big deal for Stiles to go from one toy to another or to start watching something on tv and then find something else to do in the middle of the program.

He and Stiles are usually playing one-on-one, too, so it’s easy to go with the flow. Even if Cora joins them or Scott is there, that’s still only three people. And when Stiles was younger, he got way more play time at school, where free play was encouraged. It didn’t really matter if he flitted around or didn’t finish something he started. It was all about discovery and fun back then. But that’s not at all like a teacher trying to corral a whole class full of kids, or teach them something, or have them do what they’re supposed to do when they’re supposed to do it.

Derek doesn’t have to make sure Stiles finishes his homework, doesn’t talk over other kids, remembers to tell his parents important things, or keep him on any kind of routine. He’s never even been at the same school as Stiles, except for the year when he was in fifth grade and Stiles was in kindergarten. The kindergarteners were on a pretty different schedule to begin with, but once when Derek had to use the restroom during class, he’d been walking outside as the kindergarteners lined up at the end of their recess.

When Stiles saw him, he broke away from the orderly line instantly, making a mad dash for Derek with unbridled excitement. The recess monitor blew her whistle at him over and over, but it was like he hadn’t heard a thing. All rules completely forgotten, Stiles jumped all over Derek, grabbing at him with surprised joy as Derek walked him back over to his class. Stiles hadn’t cared one bit about being disciplined, either. For him, it was totally worth it.

Truth be told, when Derek first learned about the ADHD diagnosis, he was kind of angry about it, like people were saying there’s something wrong with Stiles. He’s gotten over that knee-jerk reaction, but he understands if Stiles has some negative emotions, too.

“Mom and Dad are being really good about it,” Stiles says. “They keep telling me not to feel bad because this is supposed to help me, so it’s actually a good thing. I think this all makes sense to them, like it explains a lot. Like they have answers.”

“But what do you think?”

“I mean,” Stiles shrugs, “I guess they’re right. I’m going to start taking pills soon. Dad says my brain isn’t sick, but people take pills when they’re sick, so … I don’t know. People are always telling me to pay more attention, to stop doing this, to do more of that - but I just thought that was - normal? But I’m not normal.”

“Honestly, I’ve always thought you were better than normal because you’re so great. And I agree with your dad. Your brain isn’t sick. It just works differently than your parents’ or mine. But a lot of people have ADHD. Seriously. Tons. And your brain works a lot like theirs. So what does different really mean anyway?”

The signal flips to the “walk” sign and they follow its cue. “I like being different - when it’s good,” Stiles concedes. “Now that we’re talking about all the things I do that mean I have ADHD … I didn’t really think about it before, even when people said stuff to me. Even when people said stuff I probably wasn’t supposed to hear. Like, after soccer practice one time, I overheard Ricky’s mom say, ‘Stiles is just too much.’”

“Yeah, too much awesome,” Derek grumbles under his breath.

Stiles laughs, but Derek hears the notes of self-consciousness, loud and clear. “I don’t think that’s what she meant. She’s not a mean lady or anything. I’m just …”

“Well, I think you’re too much awesome,” Derek says, dropping the earlier sourness in favor of positivity. “I love you just the way you are. ADHD or no ADHD. I don’t want you to feel like you should be anyone else. That’s not the point of the medicine and therapy.”

Stiles reaches out, slipping his palm against Derek’s and not letting go. “Yeah. I still want to be me, too.”

They don’t hold hands as much as they used to when Stiles was little. Derek gets it - it’s something kids grow out of as they become more independent. He was the same way himself. But it’s also, like, not something that guys are supposed to do, or whatever - and that’s kind of annoying.

Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand back. He doesn’t care if anyone he knows sees him. If someone from school passes them in a car and teases him later about it - who gives a shit, really. He’s not going to be sad that he has a friend he loves enough to want to hold hands in public AND that people know it. Oh wow, he must be such a loser.

“Hopefully the medicine fixes me,” Stiles says. “My parents said it might take a while to figure out what works. And then once it does, I have to keep taking it. Like, maybe forever? …”

“Hey, you don’t need to be fixed. But yeah, it’ll help. I know this doesn’t make you feel great, but let’s try thinking about it another way. I’m just happy that there IS medicine out there because that’s not always an option, you know? And with some things, people would be happy to take pills. Like if they’re bald and want their hair to grow back, or they want to lose weight, or grow taller. It wouldn’t seem like a bad thing. So maybe it’s all in how you look at it. Like, who’s that kid in your class who’s diabetic? Jake?”

Stiles nods. “Jack. He’s allowed to eat his applesauce if he needs to. Right in the middle of class!”

“And he gets insulin shots?”

“Yeah,” Stiles shudders. “I couldn’t every day. At least I won’t have to mess with needles.”

“It’s good that he can do them, right? Even though they’re shots.” Derek makes a face. “Bleh, I don’t like them, either, but the insulin really helps him. Like your pills will help you.”

Derek’s voice cracks over the last few words and they both laugh. His voice has been dropping in pitch and settled a lot by now, but it’s still kind of funny when it cracks.

“Thanks, Derek. You’re right. Even if you’re squeaky when you say it.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely right,” Derek doubles down for good measure. “It’s not the same thing, but you love Captain America, right? He was always a great guy. The super serum didn’t make him one. It just helped him do all the awesome things he wanted to do.”

Stiles laughs. “So I’ll be able to defeat Hydra now?”

“Yeah! Why not?” Derek says. “Not Hydra, exactly. But you’ll be able to focus better and do everything you’re capable of. And maybe you’ll solve the whole Bermuda Triangle thing faster.”

“Yeah, just give me another year or so.”

“What do you think about stopping to play some video games?” Derek asks. Their favorite arcade isn’t near the way home, but there are still a couple of other options. “I have some chore money from helping my dad clean out the attic.”

Stiles gasps with glee. “Yeah! Can we get a candy bar, too?”

“Well …” Derek trails off. “I probably shouldn’t give you extra sugar. I don’t know if your parents have plans about nutrition. So I’d rather wait for that stuff to get worked out with your doctor, okay?” He knows Stiles is going to pout - understandably, because it’s not really about the candy. “But it’s all right. It’s not the only good thing out there. We don’t need candy to play Dance Dance Revolution, do we?”

“Nope!” Stiles says, skipping his feet a few steps, their clasped hands swinging between them. “Just us.”

\-----

“Dude, go to sleep,” Derek says, squinting his bleary eyes and mumbling into his pillow.

He has no idea what time it is without checking, but he feels like he’d been asleep for at least an hour. Stiles would know for sure - he’s still awake next to Derek, sitting up against the headboard with his knees pulled in to prop up a book he’s reading by flashlight.

Derek doesn’t have to ask which book it is. Mom gave Stiles the next Nancy Drew book shortly before she went to bed. She loved the books when she was younger and held onto them into adulthood, neatly organized in storage boxes. Stiles is such a voracious reader and he loves mysteries, so Mom pulled one for him to try and he’s been hooked ever since.

“When I grow up, I’m gonna be like Nancy,” Stiles said. “Well, like Nancy and my dad.”

“Criminals of the world, shake in your boots,” Derek replied, completely sincere.

“And you’re like my Ned and George and Bess, all rolled into one.”

“Criminals of the world, you can stop shaking now.”

“No, you’re the best sidekick!” Stiles insisted. “It’s okay. You can just, like, hold my lockpicks for me or be my lookout while I do all the hard stuff.”

It’s not uncommon for Derek to find Mom and Stiles talking about reading, like the time he’d walked outside to Stiles helping Mom in the garden as he rattled off his favorite parts of Nancy’s most recent adventures. Mom even rereads the books, too, so it’s fresher in her head when Stiles talks about them. “You’re my favorite book club member,” Mom told him.

A couple of weeks ago, Derek came home from baseball practice and walked towards the voices in the living room. Mom and Stiles were facing each other on the couch, books out and glasses of iced tea on the coffee table.

“Great, I’m so thirsty!” Derek teased, swiping Stiles’ glass and drinking a few gulps.

Stiles playfully shooed him away. “You’re not in book club!”

Derek laughed and ran up the stairs to take a shower. He loves that Mom and Stiles have their own thing.

Mom does in fact belong to a book club with other adults, so it really did mean something when she told Stiles he was her favorite. She had the current book sticking out of a shopping bag one day and Stiles leaned towards it with curiosity. “What’s that?” he’d asked, too far away to read the title.

“Oh, this isn’t really for you,” Mom said, laughing and sliding the copy of “The Vagina Monologues” down before Stiles could get his hands on it. “Maybe when you’re much older.”

So for now, it’s mostly age-appropriate books for Stiles. But if Stiles has his way, he’ll make up for it with age-inappropriate sleep schedules.

“I gotta find out what happens!” Stiles hisses back urgently. “Nancy’s following up on a big lead.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like my mom’s gonna give you another book in the morning. She’ll solve The Case of the Suspiciously Fast Reader and know when you found the time to read this one, so you’ll have to wait anyway.”

“Can I just finish this chapter?” Stiles bargains. “Please? It’s just two more pages, look.”

Stiles flips the page to prove it. “Okay,” Derek allows, but once Stiles is done, he holds his palm out expectantly and secures the book under his pillow.

“Pass me the flashlight, too.”

“You already took the book!” Stiles protests.

“I know you keep others under my bed.”

“Not true! I only have one there right now. Singular.”

“If you’re not gonna read, it should be fine if I have the flashlight.”

“Maybe I was gonna make shadow puppets or something, you don’t know.” But Stiles hands over the flashlight anyway.

Derek’s about to turn it off and place it on the floor next to his side of the bed, but he flicks his wrist instead, shining the light against the opposite wall. “Let’s see those puppets.”

Stiles laughs and improvises a hopping bunny that gets devoured by a descending Pac-Man. With his free hand, Derek makes his own Pac-Man that play-fights with Stiles’. It’s quite the duel before Stiles moves his Pac-Man in a calmer talking motion.

“Good night, party pooper,” he says.

“Good night, Nancy,” Derek’s puppet replies.

\-----

Once Dad pulls into the driveway, Derek can’t get out of the car fast enough.

“I passed!” Derek whoops with triumph. “The DMV didn’t shun me!”

Stiles and Cora leap off the Hales’ front porch swing, arms waving with their own cheers. “I knew you would,” Stiles says, blasé about any worries.

After dinner at their respective houses, Stiles comes over, but they don’t stay inside. Instead, he and Derek pile into Dad’s old Camry parked in front of the house. Laura drove this car after she got her license, too, and the keys have been officially turned over to Derek. When Laura comes back from college on breaks, they can argue over who gets the car and when, but for now, it’s his.

Derek can’t drive Stiles around since he’s under a lot of restrictions with a new license. Stiles, ever the researcher, knows the rules just as well as Derek does, if not better, but they don’t have to be in a car cruising the streets to enjoy Derek’s latest milestone. Reclining all the way back in the seats under the open sunroof is good enough for now.

“Get your motor runnin’,” Stiles croons, purposely off-key. “Head out on the highway! Lookin’ for adventure …”

Derek laughs. He doesn’t really need a highway for that. Stiles is plenty of adventure for him.

“Mom says I can drive her Jeep after I get my license. Hopefully it holds up that long. But I don’t want anything new - not if I can have her car. That’s the dream. It doesn’t have a sunroof, though.” Stiles’ eyes flick up towards the sky and sighs with appreciation. “The stars are pretty tonight. They’re probably pretty every night - I just don’t notice them.”

“Yeah, you’re too busy howling at the moon,” Derek cracks.

“Me? What about you?” Stiles turns away from the open roof and onto his side to face Derek. “I wish our parents would let us sleep in the car, but they probably won’t. Even as a one-time thing to celebrate your driver’s license.”

“It’s not as comfortable as our beds. And it gets pretty cold overnight. But I guess that’s no different than bundling up for camping, though, and we’ve done that before. I would sleep out here with you. Beanies and sleeping bags and mittens.”

“It’s not like you’ll be breaking curfew. Sleeping right outside your house has to count as being home. Not that it’s a problem for me. I don’t have a curfew.”

Derek laughs. “You’re ten years old. You don’t have a curfew. You have a bedtime.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s only a strong suggestion. I’m in charge. But don’t tell my parents I said that.”

“Okay, boss, where’s the first place you want to go, once I’m allowed to drive you?”

“Oh, hmmmm!” Stiles grows quiet, genuinely stumped. “I don’t know why I haven’t thought about this before! How do I narrow it down? Can I just say ‘take me everywhere’?”

Derek nods. “Yeah, sure. Everywhere works.”

\-----

The sway of the hammock in the Stilinskis’ backyard comes to a slow stop under Derek and Stiles’ weight. It’s a breezy, calm Sunday morning - perfect for lounging around.

In contrast, there was a lot of activity yesterday with Stiles’ 11th birthday party. Derek had been there for the first part, but left about halfway through since one of his friends was having her birthday celebration, too. Originally, he hadn’t planned on going to Leah’s until way later, but Stiles had pushed him to go so he didn’t miss out on anything.

“A bunch of my friends will be at my party,” Stiles reverse guilt-tripped. “It’s totally fair game for you to see a bunch of your friends your age, too. You don’t have to choose only one or the other.”

Stiles was right; he had plenty of company. Derek’s pretty acclimated to the age difference when he hangs out with Stiles, and sometimes with Scott when he comes over, but a whole house full of 11-year-olds is different. It’s just a fact that he feels every bit of his 16+ years in that kind of situation.

Derek stretches languidly, all the way down to his toes. “How was the rest of your party?”

Stiles can’t grin any harder. “Oh man, it was so fun. Scott won our Guitar Hero tournament and we had some awesome water gun fights after you left. And my parents got me a new Batmobile Lego set. It’s over 3000 pieces! I started putting it together last night. And there’s plenty of leftover cake if you want some.”

Even though Derek was fine with the two-party compromise before, he’s still wistful. “I should have stayed longer.”

“No, it’s okay,” Stiles says, nudging Derek’s arm with his. “This way, you got to go to both.”

“Yeah, but you only have a couple more birthdays before I go off to college.”

“I guess. The calendar doesn’t lie. But you know, some of these people in high school - you’ll barely see them again after you graduate, if ever. So you might as well spend some time with them because you’re never getting rid of me.”

“That’s true. No matter what I do -” Derek pauses to groan - “I’ll always be stuck with you. My ball and chain. What a bummer.”

“I know, tough titties,” Stiles says, poking Derek in the chest. “But how was the other party? Did a lot of people come? Did you have any beer?”

“No!” Derek says, laughing at what Stiles must be picturing in his head about a high school pool party. “There wasn’t any beer. Leah’s parents were there.”

“Did Paige go? Did you kiss her?”

“Yes and yes.” Sometimes Derek gets a little embarrassed talking about stuff like this, but Stiles is the exception. They talk about everything.

Paige Krasikeva is maybe not Derek’s “type,” but he doesn’t even really think he has a type anyway. He bristles at the high school cliches about who he should like just because he’s a varsity player on the football and baseball teams.

She’s definitely a pretty girl, but what Derek really likes are her fire and independence. Paige is so into her music, purely because she loves it. It doesn’t matter if anyone else thinks playing the cello is cool. Derek’s kind of used to being treated a certain way at school because his outward jock appearance, but Paige couldn’t care less about that social stature. She keeps Derek on his toes, matching his own sarcasm and sparring with him. There’s just something about her that makes him feel safe and warm inside.

Laura wasn’t allowed to date until she was 15 and the same rule applied to Derek. He hasn’t actually dated that much yet, especially compared to some of his peers. He and Paige aren’t officially boyfriend/girlfriend, but it’s a rush experiencing new things with her. Even though she’s not the first girl he’s kissed, she’s the most grown-up kiss he’s ever had. Michelle Kanamori was his first kiss at the eighth grade dance, but that was close-mouthed. Technically, Derek’s first ever outside of family members was Stiles, a very kissy toddler tireless with his affection. That’s different, though.

“Oooh. Did you, like, make out with her?”

Derek laughs again. “Of course, totally. We went behind the make out trees Leah’s parents planted for that exact purpose.”

“Cool, are they maple?” Stiles is always up for going along with a joke. “Hey, do you want cake? We saved you a corner piece. I want some, too.”

“It’s only 10:30. Is your mom going to let you eat that now?”

“It’s my birthday weekend,” Stiles shrugs. “I’m the king! I can have breakfast cake if I want to.”

“Yes, your Majesty, breakfast cake sounds awesome. Can I help you with the Batmobile afterwards?”

“Sure!”

Neither of them move, so after a while, Derek checks to see if Stiles spontaneously fell asleep. “Dude.”

“I’m trying to ‘Jedi Mind Trick’ Mom into bringing us some cake out here,” Stiles says. “It’s not working. It always works when I ‘Jedi Mind Trick’ you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Our whole friendship is because of mind control. Really, you don’t even like me.”

Derek guffaws at the bizarre idea of not liking Stiles. He barely even remembers life before Stiles. “Well, I guess this makes it 11 years of fake friendship then.”

“Super fake,” Stiles concurs, resting his head against Derek’s shoulder.

\-----

Derek didn’t intend to make any kind of “statement” by joining the academic Quiz Bowl team as a sophomore, but people still seem to react to it, even now that he’s a junior.

He understands, though. Quiz Bowl wasn’t on his radar. He’s undoubtedly an above average student, but not of the caliber that he associates with academically-oriented extracurriculars. Those are full of students in the running for valedictorian or top-tier college admissions.

When Stiles asked him about it last year - as a fifth grader - Derek still didn’t think about being on the team. Of course, it made perfect sense to him that someone with Stiles’ intellectual curiosity would want to know more about a trivia team he was two schools away from being able to join. Before the competitive season started, Derek went to an informational session so he could funnel the details back to Stiles.

“Sounds so awesome,” Stiles said. “I can’t wait. Did it get you interested?”

Derek paused before answering. He didn’t see it as a matter of interest, honestly. “I’m not smart enough. I think the people on the team are scoring 99th percentile on the SATs and 5s on all of their AP tests.”

Stiles gave him A Look. “Yeah, you are. You sell yourself too short. I’ve taught you everything I know, so you’re, like, crazy smart now, obviously. And I bet you know stuff the other team members don’t.”

Which Derek finds out is true, once he takes the leap of going to the first few team meetings. He’s not that great at certain topics, like geography, but he’s gotten a lot better at science and math since he was Stiles’ age. It’s okay, though, because the other students have Derek’s weaker subjects covered already. It doesn’t matter that he’s not fast on the buzzer with those questions. He’s able to fill in with sports, things he does remember from classes, and the random trivia he’s picked up from Stiles. Derek would never be chosen to face-off in a tiebreaker, but he doesn’t mind that at all. Although if Quiz Bowl ever gets so unconventional that a tiebreaker is decided by whoever can demonstrate the fastest escape from zip ties, Derek would almost surely win. What are the odds that an opposing contender has someone like Stiles to teach them stuff like that?

It’s been scary in a fun way to get out of his comfort zone. Derek’s presence means incremental points the team wouldn’t have without him, and that’s a really cool feeling Derek has only experienced before with sports. It helps that the school isn’t a big player on the scene, so there isn’t any pressure of going back to state championships or anything like that.

He’s also gotten to know a lot of people he wouldn’t have otherwise. His closest friend on the team is Isaac Lahey, another junior, but it took a while for Isaac to warm up to him.

“Sorry if I’ve been kind of abrupt with you. I don’t have the best experiences with jocks,” Isaac confessed early on. “My older brother and his friends are kind of shitty to me sometimes. But I get that you’re not them.”

“Yeah, I’m not into being one of those jerks. My mom would kick my ass if I was. And after I dusted myself off, my dad would swoop in for a second round. And then my sisters - holy hell - I don’t even wanna think about what they would do.”

Something they have in common are their indirect routes to being on the Quiz Bowl team in the first place. Isaac didn’t always do well in school, but his asshole dad rode him so hard about it that Isaac started getting A’s just to pacify him. Once he put the work in and saw he could do it, Isaac kept at it for his own reasons. Good grades mean more college prospects and scholarships so he can move away and live in dorms.

Derek really feels for Isaac, having such a shit family. In that regard, they couldn’t be more different. Not only does he legitimately like and love his family, he has an awesome neighbor dad and neighbor mom, with Stiles on top of that.

As their friendship grows, Derek invites Isaac over more often. It’s not pity or anything. He really likes Isaac. Isaac has a quieter energy - the total opposite of locker rooms - that Derek finds refreshing. The guy could use a little confidence boosting, but that’s fine with Derek. He’s no loudmouth, either, and he’s been in need of some confidence himself. He’s happy to try to do for Isaac what Stiles does for him. Cora thinks Isaac is really cute, too, so if Derek wasn’t the one inviting him over, she’d find a way to do it somehow.

However, Cora is not invited when Derek has his friends stay over, so it’s just him, Isaac, Boyd, and Stiles holed up in Derek’s room on a Friday night. It didn’t take long for Derek to introduce Isaac to Boyd, one of his oldest friends from childhood and fellow congenial jock. Derek belongs to a bunch of different cliques at school, but this one is his favorite.

Derek and Stiles don’t do everything together, but the people Derek lets into his inner circle know all about his younger best friend and happily accept him. Mom calls them “a package deal.” Derek doesn’t even know if he could be that close to someone who didn’t accept Stiles. Not that he’d reject them in a mean way, but he could never feel truly comfortable if he had to compartmentalize such a huge part of his life. That’s not a problem with Boyd and Isaac, though. Boyd has known Stiles for almost as long as he’s known Derek and Isaac gets a real kick out of his antics.

After hours of video games and trash talking, they settle down to get some rest. Isaac and Boyd lay out on the floor while Stiles, as usual, takes the left side of Derek’s bed.

Stiles reaches over to turn off the bedside light, but pipes up soon after. “Hey, if you guys could have any superpower, what would it be?”

“It’d be really cool to have healing powers, I think,” Isaac answers. “Not just healing myself, but healing other people, too. And animals. Any living thing, really. Or if not healing, then something like soothing pain. Pain sucks.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.”

“I’d be invincible,” Boyd says. “Nothing could hurt me or kill me, so I wouldn’t need to heal myself. Shoot me, stab me, impale me - whatever, I’d be fine.”

“What about you?” Derek asks.

“I don’t know,” Stiles muses. “There are so many things I could pick. But I feel like it would be magic. Which sounds like a total cheat, like asking a genie for unlimited wishes, but I don’t think it is. I don’t mean the kind of easy magic where you’re like, “I want this thing,” and you just get it. I mean the kind of magic where you have to learn stuff and know exactly what to do. And it has to come from inside you, I guess. That would be cool.”

They bounce around amusing spell ideas as the conversation narrows to just Derek and Stiles. Derek can tell Isaac and Boyd have fallen asleep from their breathing patterns, in addition to their silence.

“Hey, you never said what your superpower would be,” Stiles prompts.

“Hmmm, I didn’t. You’re right, it’s hard to pick. But if I had to on the spot … I agree with Boyd. Invincibility. So I would never get hurt or die. Unless I wanted to? Immortal beings do get tired of being immortal.”

“I would be so sad if anything ever happened to you.”

Derek is familiar with Stiles’ tone of voice - the one he uses when he’s being super serious but injects a tiny bit of casualness to take the edge off. “Yeah, but if I was invincible, I would just come back to life, rising up like a phoenix. You wouldn’t have to be sad. I’ll always be here. And even if I weren’t, you’d just find some spell to make it all better, right?”

Even in the dark, Derek can see Stiles smile, the whiteness of his teeth appearing like a little spark. “Yep.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter! I think there will be 3-4 more and I plan to finish before year-end. Well before year-end, if I can. There are a couple of other stories I’d really like to start working on!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and as always, I welcome feedback, if you’re inclined!
> 
> [Posted 08/10/20]

Derek bolts upright, his eyes darting all around the dim room in disorientation.

Next to him, Stiles wakes up, too. Before Stiles can say anything, Derek gasps out, “My house - it’s on fire! My family -”

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” Stiles interjects, sounding a little panicky himself. “No! Wait. I’ll show you.”

He jumps out of bed and whips open his blinds to reveal the Hale house, shrouded in darkness and certainly not up in flames.

Derek reflexively sighs with relief, but tension is still laced throughout his body. “It really seemed like …”

“It was a bad dream.” Stiles sits down next to Derek. It’s easier to see now with the scattered light from streetlamp streaming in. “They’re okay.”

Derek’s pulse begins a slow descent back to normal as he squeezes his eyes shut to scrub away the vivid images. “Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah. It was just a dream. Let’s go back to sleep.”

But Stiles isn’t interested in that and turns on his bedside light.

“It’s okay,” Derek reassures. “I’m fine, really.”

Stiles reaches out to grab Derek’s hand. “Come on,” he says, pulling Derek out of bed.

He leads Derek downstairs and outside, where they stand on the Stilinskis’ driveway, looking up and over at Derek’s house. As expected, it’s just as dark and still as it had looked through the window. The entire street is quiet, except for the chirp of crickets.

“They’re okay,” Derek repeats, dragging a hand down his face. “I know that. I don’t know where that dream came from. It felt so real.”

“Last week, I had a dream that Mr. Potato Head and I were horseback riding to school,” Stiles says.

Derek chuckles in spite of himself. “Separate horses or tandem?”

“Separate. Tandem would make it weird, you know.”

“Let’s go back inside.” Derek’s suddenly aware of how cold the concrete is under his bare feet.

“We can check the smoke detectors. We’ll grab your key and sneak inside. It won’t take very long.”

“No, it’s okay. I was being silly.”

“Seriously, we can go -” Stiles insists as they cross the threshold back into his house.

“Nah, everything is fine. Just a nightmare that’s over and done with.”

Derek is pretty sure it wouldn’t be that weird for Stiles’ parents to wake up in the middle of the night to find him examining the batteries on their own smoke detectors. They would just shake their heads and lead Stiles back to bed with a soft lecture about how he needs a good night’s rest. It probably seems just as viable to Stiles to do the same thing next door.

Under the covers is so much warmer than outside. Derek closes his eyes, but doesn’t fall back asleep very easily. After a few minutes, he opens them and is greeted with the sight of Stiles still awake and facing Derek on his side.

“Why are you still up?” Derek asks, but there’s nothing begrudging about it.

Stiles just shrugs. “Not tired ’til you’re tired.”

“I guess I better get tired then,” Derek quips, before closing his eyes and sleeping until morning.

\-----

At the start of lunch period the next day, Derek turns away from his locker and nearly bumps into Kate Argent, who has apparently been waiting for him.

Kate’s a senior and only one grade above Derek, but she feels so much older to him. He can concede she’s physically attractive, but he would never tell her that since she’s made no secret of being into him and he doesn’t feel the same way. Derek doesn’t get it. Why him?

Derek enjoys the physical lifestyle of being an athlete. Maybe not so much what he’s supposed to eat, and how much and when, or what he’s not supposed to eat, but he likes being capable of doing more and more as he pushes his body further.

He’s over a year into disciplined weight lifting and it shows, but that’s mostly more about function than aesthetics. Even though he’s played sports his whole life, he didn’t really get into bulking up until later on during high school. It’s a lot more important to him as a wide receiver on the varsity football team than it was as a ten-year-old Little League player.

Besides the workouts, adolescence has triggered a lot of changes - some of them more embarrassing than others. All in all, Derek has to admit he likes the end results. He's gotten taller and lost the last hints of a baby face, too, while gaining a few chest hairs.

“You’re becoming a man!” Stiles teases him every now and then, pinching his cheeks like a grandma.

So he’s not a drooling troll with halitosis, but he and Kate barely know each other. If she wants a status boyfriend with muscles, there are other guys she could choose.

His football teammates have razzed him about her - she’s been that obvious about it - and he knows they see her differently than he does. Most of them would jump at the chance to be with Kate. She ticks off all of their boxes - both hot and beautiful (which aren’t necessarily the same thing), fun at parties, the opposite of a prude, and friends with other hot, beautiful girls.

But so what? Derek doesn’t really find her appealing - not that he can tell her that, either. Kate doesn’t seem to ever get lukewarm reactions from guys, so she’s doubled down on her pursuit like she thinks he’s playing hard to get or is a little gun-shy after Paige left for a conservatory program recently.

Derek finds being outspoken and having opinions to be attractive qualities, but damn is Kate aggressive as hell. It’s making it hard to see anything nice about her besides her brown hair. He likes brunettes.

“Hey, Der.”

“Hey, Kate,” he says simply, not loving the nickname as though they’re well-acquainted. It’s not something someone has to earn the right to, but Stiles is the only one besides Dad who calls him Der.

“So when are we going to hang out? I know we’re both really busy, but you’ve gotta have some time around all your stuff. It’s okay if it’s late at night.” She winks at him. “You can just sneak out, right? Your parents don’t have to know.”

Okay, sure, Mom and Dad don’t know a lot of things about his life. He’s a teenager and he’s got a lot going on. But Derek just has a weird feeling about her. He can’t put his finger on it, but he doesn’t feel like he really has to, either. Compatibility is about being a good match and that’s not what they are at all. He doesn’t have to spend more time with her to understand that.

An arm slides though his, linking at the elbow. Caught off guard, Derek turns to find his friend Braeden. “Isaac wants to go over chromosomes before our biology test,” she says. “I told him I’d bring you to the last-minute cram session.”

Kate raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?”

Derek nods. “Like you said, we’re both pretty busy. I don’t really have time for - when I’m free, I’m with my friends. But I gotta go, see ya around.”

He’s polite as always, but makes sure there’s no trace of wistfulness. In return, Kate looks annoyed. Derek’s not sure if she’s more annoyed about school being prioritized over her or anything involving another pretty girl, but he’s not bothered by it. He hasn’t led her on, so hopefully she moves on to some other guy who would love to have her on his jock.

“Thanks, Brae,” Derek says, once they’re out of earshot.

“I thought you could use an exit strategy back there.” Braeden doesn’t unlink their arms until they turn a corner of the hallway. “Maneaters like her have a hard time not getting to eat up the men. And I don’t care if she hates me. She’s whatever, I could take her. I mean, what’s she gonna do? Shiv me in the bathroom?”

Derek playfully swipes a clawed hand a few inches from her neck and Braeden doesn’t even flinch. “Oh, that’s fine. I’d look badass, even with some gnarly scars,” she jokes.

Braeden is really cool. She and Derek have never actually dated, but they’re friendly and she’s easy to be around. He laughs along with her, in part because the idea of Braeden and Kate fighting over him, albeit indirectly, is so out there.

When Derek comes home after baseball practice and a weight room session, he walks in through the open door of the garage, where Dad is putting a ladder back.

“Hey, son.”

“What up, Dad?”

“Just finished playing Fire Marshall. Stiles came by and wanted to check on all of the safety equipment. We made the rounds for the smoke detectors, carbon monoxide detectors, and fire extinguishers. He even asked me about evacuation plans from every room of the house, too. He’s probably getting ideas in his head from somewhere. If not John or an actual firefighter, then some news story or other cautionary tale.”

“Is he still here?” Derek asks.

“No, you missed him by about ten minutes. Since I had the ladder out already, I vacuumed up some webs in the ceiling corners.” Dad shakes his head ruefully. “He’s gonna grow up to be a man of service, like his dad. I’d bet money on it. That kid’s smart as hell, but I don’t see him being a stockbroker or programmer. Not that there’s anything wrong with those jobs. Look at me, I’m a finance guy myself. But that’s not Stiles.”

“Nope,” Derek shakes his head. “It’s not.”

“Can you go inside and help your mom finish making dinner? She got a bit of a late start today.”

Derek shrugs. He’d rather talk to Stiles now, but it’ll have to wait. “Okay.”

By the time dinner is over and Derek heads up to his room, it’s already dark outside. He could ping Stiles online, but instead, he grabs a flashlight from his desk drawer and blinks the beam of light twice towards Stiles’ window. If he’s not there, Derek will IM him after all, but it’s not long until a light blinks back two times through the blinds.

Stiles has been practicing Morse code lately to get better and faster at it. Of course, that means Derek knows it, too - not nearly as well, but enough.

“Thx,” Derek flashes at Stiles with the correct dots and dashes. He doesn’t even need his cheat sheet anymore.

“NP,” Stiles messages back. “All OK. N-”

The flashes stop in the middle of the word, resuming about a minute later. “Mom,” Stiles spells out. “G2G luv u.”

“Luv u 2 bye,” Derek responds quickly, knowing that Stiles will wait for acknowledgement before leaving his room or doing whatever Mrs. Stilinski is asking him to do.

Even after all the hours they’ve filled over the years talking about everything and nothing, talking to Stiles never gets old or stale. Finding new ways to do it is fun, but Derek doesn’t really need anything to feel new. Stiles in and of himself is always more than enough.

\-----

With pizza in his satisfied stomach, Derek is careful not to make too much noise on his way up the stairs. It’s past midnight, so his parents are already asleep.

They took Stiles to Derek’s football game that night, so they were there to watch the Cyclones rack up another decisive victory. So was Cora, doing her own thing as a cheerleader. She doesn’t really care for football itself, but Derek knows she would still support him even if she didn’t have her personal reasons. Football isn’t normally a sport of interest for Stiles, either, but he learned all about it and then some since Derek plays.

After the win, Derek went out with a bunch of his teammates to celebrate and refuel. He didn’t stay out as late as some of the others, though. As he anticipated, a strip of light is peeking out from under the crack of his door. Even if his parents told Stiles “lights out” before they went to bed, it’s a Friday night and they know Stiles will wait up for him. Making Stiles go to bed isn’t a battle they’re going to pick.

Derek quietly opens his door and waves to Stiles wordlessly before he closes it behind him.

Stiles, sitting cross-legged on Derek’s bed, looks up from his laptop. “You were so awesome,” he says. “When you came out of nowhere and caught the ball for the second touchdown - I was like, wow! Wowie, even.”

“Oh, thanks!” It always feels good when Stiles compliments him, no matter how many times it’s happened before.

“And we got to add another step in our high five. I really think by the end of the season, we can get to ten. Maybe more!”

At the beginning of Derek’s senior year, Dad and Stiles started a new tradition. They’ve always kept track of his successes, but now they do their own high five celebration, starting with the basic move and tacking on something new after every touchdown Derek is part of. Stiles comes to almost all of his games - even the away games - so he’s usually there in person. The one time he couldn’t make it, Dad made sure to update him the next day.

“Ooh, pressure,” Derek says. “I think you can, too. I’ll make it happen. Or try my hardest, at least. And sorry I came back so late.”

“Pfft, it’s not that late. I’m glad you had fun with the team. I was thinkin’ about some stuff anyway.”

Derek opens one of his dresser drawers and lifts out a fresh t-shirt before retrieving dark gray sweatpants from the drawer underneath. “I hope you weren’t doing homework.”

Stiles laughs. “I’m not that big of a nerd.”

“Actually,” Derek says, stepping out of his jeans and leaving them pooled on the floor, “I’d be fine with it if you were proofreading my English paper.”

“Oh, I did that already. Before the game. It’s a pretty good paper, dude. I only pointed out a couple places where it could be clearer.”

Derek lobs his discarded shirt over at Stiles’ head, but Stiles manages to grab it before it hits its target.

“That’s even higher praise than a football wowie,” Derek says, pulling the sweatpants up over his briefs. The clean shirt follows and Derek flops down on the bed, sighing with the comfort of truly relaxing for the first time since he woke up.

It doesn’t take very long to intuit he’s the only one feeling that calm, though. “What’s goin’ on?” he asks, gazing up at Stiles.

Stiles closes his laptop and sets it aside. “So … like … I’m pretty sure I’m gay,” he says, his eyes devoid of their usual lurking sarcasm. 

Derek sits up straight next to him. “Okay,” he nods.

“There’s a girl at school, Lydia. And she’s really pretty and super smart and I like her a lot. But I don’t LIKE her. I never think about her that way.”

“Well, you don’t have to like every girl. Even the ones you think you should like. Straight guys don’t like all girls. And no girl is liked by all straight guys.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Stiles’ hands fidget in his lap. “But there’s this other kid, Jackson. Mostly I want to punch him because he’s a jerk. But when I don’t think about punching him in the head, I don’t know …. he’s got kind of a nice face.”

“Okay.”

“And other guys … they’re cute, too. Like, it’s more than just thinking they’re cute…”

“Yeah. It’s attraction. And that’s totally okay. It’s totally okay to be unsure about how you feel, too. It probably feels kind of weird, but it’s pretty normal to feel kind of weird. Figuring out stuff about girls is a weird experience, too.”

“Yeah, but - is this weird for you?”

Derek doesn’t miss a beat. “No.”

“Is it because you’re not surprised? Did you already suspect?”

“No. But I don’t feel differently about you. And I’m really glad you told me. That takes a lot of courage, even though I hope you’re never scared of anything with me.”

Stiles pulls his knees up closer to his chest and wraps his arms around his bent legs. “I wasn’t perving on you just now, when you were changing.”

Derek’s eyes nearly bug right out of his head. “Stiles, you’re twelve years old. You’re not a pervert.”

“Twelve-year-olds can be perverts.”

“Well, sure,” Derek laughs. “Like my mom always says, you can be anything you want to be. But you’re not a pervert. If you’re looking at guys, that doesn’t make you a pervert, and I’m not uncomfortable around you because you like guys.”

“It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with everything. I can sleep on the floor.”

Derek’s comically wide eyes quickly give way to a flare-up of vague anger, but it’s not directed at Stiles. “No. I don’t want space from you. I’m not uncomfortable, and I’m not just saying that. You can want space, though. I won’t be offended. You’re growing up and you’re allowed to want to change things.”

Derek doesn’t sleep in the same bed as his other friends, but he’s not close with them like he is with Stiles. Sleeping in the same bed is where they started, once Stiles graduated to a bed in the first place. They’ve always preferred it that way. That’s their default as much as Boyd zipping up in a sleeping bag when he stays over is his default.

Mom and Dad have never said they can’t share a bed, either. They’ve talked to Derek about puberty and hormones and all of that, but they never said he and Stiles had to act differently because of it.

Truthfully, Derek understands that what he and Stiles have is more of an anomaly. But he doesn’t see it as strange - just really special. It’s so nice to be themselves with each other, lacking in self-consciousness and internalized phantom rules.

He’s been on overnight trips with teammates before, and some guys make a really big deal out of not wanting to share a bed or otherwise touch at all while they’re sleeping, even if it’s an accident. Everyone has their own comfort levels about things and that’s fine, but it’s just really dumb when the guys are so homophobic about it. On one hand, okay, sure - they aren’t acting this way with their best friends in the world, usually. But seriously, why would someone say they’ll sleep in the bathtub instead of stay on their side of a reasonably large bed? Why do they worry so much about having enough pillows to make a divider down the center?

Stiles shakes his head. “I don’t wanna change anything. Not unless you do.”

“I don’t,” Derek says, immediate in his repeated matter-of-fact reply.

“So you would’ve done the same strip show for me if you’d already known?”

Derek pushes Stiles’ shoulder in jest, just enough to mess with his balance. Stiles’ arms release from around his body, his previous uncertain posture disappearing as Derek pulls him into a tight hug, one with both arms and not quickly in passing. It’s a bit awkward because of their seated positions, but it doesn’t actually feel awkward. They’ll always be close like this, no matter what.

“What do you think my parents will say?” Stiles asks, his chin over Derek’s shoulder.

“Are you worried about that?”

“A little. I know they’re the greatest. But I’m their only kid.”

Derek pulls back to look at Stiles. “Well, your parents love you a whole lot. Tons. If they see you differently, it’s probably more because they see that you’re not really a kid anymore. It’s good for relationships to evolve. Like your relationship with your parents isn’t the same as when you were a baby.”

“Yeah,” Stiles concedes. “They don’t wipe my ass for me anymore. Except for when I’m really tired.”

“I really think they’ll be fine with it. But you tell them when you’re ready, on your terms. It’s up to you.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell them - eventually. I’m not in a hurry. It’s not like I can even date yet.”

“Okay. But let me know if I can help at all. Not that you’d want me to be there, necessarily, but if you want to plan what to say - stuff like that.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says. He stifles a yawn - a clear sign that he’s not anxious like he was earlier.

The room feels lighter to Derek, too, now that Stiles is happier. “Now I think this qualifies as ‘late.’ I could wind down, too.”

Stiles tucks his laptop out of the way under Derek’s bed as Derek pulls the covers back so they can settle in. “I had the hard, tiring job of cheering in the stands while you ran around for funsies, dodging a bunch of tiny guys,” Stiles says.

“Oh, yeah. You’ll see how easy that stuff is tomorrow. Actually, I guess it’s today.”

They can wake up whenever they want to, but after lunch, they’re planning to indulge in more sports - this time, of Stiles’ choosing. He’s only in seventh grade, but he and Scott have apparently deemed lacrosse their athletic pursuit in high school. They don’t have much experience, so they’re getting prepared now to increase their chances of making the team at some point in high school. They’re bullish, but not so bullish they think it’ll happen as freshmen.

Since Derek will be off at college somewhere next year, this is the year for Stiles to practice if he wants to do it with Derek. Derek’s happy to help, even though he didn’t previously know anything about lacrosse. Putting on his Stiles hat, he’s done some research on the rules and drills, plus he’s watched a fair number of games to get a feel for them in action.

Scott’s excited about getting more practice, too, especially with older, more skilled people. Derek drafted Boyd to join in, and even Isaac. Isaac isn’t into formal sports, but surely he can handle facing off against tweens.

“So …” Derek asks, “have you kissed any boys?”

Stiles laughs. “No.”

“Okay. But you can always come and talk to me. About anything. I’m never gonna be like, ‘you can be gay, but I don’t wanna hear about it.’ I want to hear about it.”

Stiles nods, settling in on his side of the bed. “Okay. I’ll give you a play-by-play of every molecule of saliva.”

They’re quiet for a few moments until Derek breaks the comfortable silence. “With all this said - you didn’t really think you were going to get off that easily, did you?”

“What do you mean?”

Derek almost regrets teasing Stiles without him knowing it yet, except Derek knows he won’t mind. “Can you show me the new high five?”

Stiles lights up, all worry gone from his face, as he pushes the blankets down and gets to his feet. “Oh, sure! Okay, so now we have a salsa step after the yo-yo and double fist bumps …”

\-----

After he finishes the last of his burrito, Derek extends his arms behind him to lean back on the grass, taking in the pleasant sunlight. He doesn’t see the shadow cast over him with his eyes closed, nor does he hear the sound of any footsteps over Boyd’s voice.

“Hey, Whit,” Boyd says, stopping mid-sentence.

“Hey, guys! Mind if I join you?”

Derek blinks at their visitor and nods. “Yeah, go for it.”

Whitney LeClair sits down on the lawn across from them and runs a hand through her blonde bangs. “So full disclosure, I came over here with an agenda. But it’s a good one, I promise. I was wondering if you guys already had dates for prom? I was thinking we could double-date. You two, plus me and Rachel. Like, no pressure or anything - we just want to kill it and have a great time. Or we can go as a group if you’d rather not pair off.”

Derek is currently single and does not in fact have a prom date. The last person he dated was Braeden after all, but it never got that serious. They were only together for a couple of months when it became clear to both of them that their chemistry was more platonic than romantic. She seemed okay with it, but Derek still felt bad, like she might be so used to being “a cool girl” that she was trying to be cool about them fizzling out when maybe she wasn’t.

“No, really, Derek, it’s okay,” she’d assured him. “We still had a good time. And, you know, we’re seniors. I didn’t think you would ride off into the sunset with me after we graduate.”

Even though they’re back to being good friends, it hasn’t occurred to him to ask her to go with him. Prom is still about a month away and he hasn’t been in any hurry about it.

Boyd flashes a kind smile at Whitney. “I actually already asked Erica Reyes,” he says, a touch of apology in his voice. “Thanks for thinking of me, though. It’s not common knowledge yet that Erica and I are more than friends now.”

“Yeah, that’s awesome news. Cool. And don’t worry about it, we were happy to think of you. Rachel thinks you’re so funny.” Whitney’s head turns towards Derek specifically. “But are you interested, Derek? I mean, in going with me. Same thing applies, even with this hunk of man taken -” she points at Boyd - “we can go as a group, if you know anyone else that would be a good match for Rachel. My best friend doesn’t have to go with yours.”

“Well, I’m his best friend here,” Boyd says. “But Derek has another one. He just goes to a different school.”

“Oh really?” Whitney’s curiosity is piqued. “That could work. Does he go to McCarthy?”

Derek shakes his head at Boyd, amused. “No. He’s at Mercer.”

Whitney’s perfectly sculpted brows take a sharp turn into confusion. “Mercer?”

“Yeah.” Derek shrugs. Boyd’s not actually teasing anyone, and Derek is unabashed about his friendship with Stiles anyway. “He’s my neighbor. We grew up together. But yeah, my other best friend is at the middle school.”

“Oh.” Whitney shrugs, too, and then grins. “That’s really super cute. I didn’t know that.”

“We can still go, if you want,” Derek says. They’ve spent a good amount of time together in the classes they’ve shared and the general social scene, so he’s comfortable around her. She’s smart and drama-free. Pretty, too, not that that really matters so much. “I don’t have a date yet. And you’re right, we’ll have fun.”

“Okay, yeah! Let’s do it. And it’s okay, Rachel and I will find someone else for her to go with. Derek, I can’t believe you don’t already have plans.”

Derek laughs. “Yeah, I’m kind of a slowpoke sometimes.”

“Nothing to be sorry about this time! ‘Cause it totally worked in my favor.”

Whitney sets up a group chat including her, Derek, Boyd, Erica, Rachel, and a few other friends before they spend the rest of lunch period making initial plans. She’s a planner, which is convenient for Derek since that’s not in his wheelhouse. He likes participating in pomp and circumstance, but not so much the work that goes into it. His whole life, what’s really mattered to him is the company he keeps.

\-----

When Cora and Derek are on clean-up duty after dinner later that night, she pokes him in the side as they stand at the sink.

“I heard you’re going to prom with Whitney LeClair,” Cora says.

Derek nods. “Yeah. She asked me today, so I said sure.”

Cora shakes her head. “It’s hilarious. All these other girls are still recovering from the shock. Their dumb asses were sitting around, hoping you’d ask them, and now you’re going with someone who took some initiative to ask you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek says, passing a soaped-up plate for Cora to rinse off.

“Oh, of course you don’t. I like Whitney, though. She’s a bomb-ass chick. You have my stamp of approval.”

“Just what I needed, the last piece of the puzzle.”

Cora flicks a blob of suds at Derek’s arm. “I heard about Rachel Lindquist getting beaten to the punch with Boyd, too.”

“You’re a sophomore. How do you know all this stuff?”

Cora sighs. “I know everything. Unlike you, I notice things. And I’m connected.”

It’s true. Case in point, one of the other seniors on the baseball team already asked Cora to prom a few days ago, and Cora is as inquisitive socially as Stiles is intellectually.

“I’m going to embarrass you at prom by tapping you on the shoulder during a slow dance and asking if I can cut in.”

Cora guffaws. Derek knows she secretly loves it when he’s overt with a sense of humor. “Why would I be embarrassed that you want to take my place and dance with Hunter?”

She one-ups him easily and Derek goes with the flow. “Of course I do. I hear Hunter’s a really good date.”

“Yeah, I’m counting on it!”

“Okay, I’ll leave you in peace with him then. Break my heart, why don’t you.”

“Oh, please.” Cora shakes her head again. She does that around him a lot. “Like you wouldn’t have the most fun with Stiles anyway.”

Frankly, that’s also true, but at least he’ll still have a blast dressing up and partying with his other friends.

\-----

Prom is awesome, just like Derek thought it would be, but it’s one thing to think it and another to experience it. When he picks Whitney up, her parents make a big deal out of taking pictures, and so do his parents, once he takes her back to his house.

Their group opted not to get a limo so they could spend more money at dinner, and Derek dances longer than his feet really want him to, adorned in formal shoes he’s not used to wearing. And he does in fact dance with Cora once, but of her prompting.

Rachel’s parents let them have an afterparty at their house while they stay upstairs. No alcohol, but that’s fine with Derek, and they’re allowed to use the pool and jacuzzi as long as they keep it down for the neighbors. Soothing his taxed body in the hot tub next to Boyd and Isaac while they reminisce about the last few years is honestly the best part.

Derek has permission to stay out all night, so he comes home the next morning. Mom and Dad have already woken up and greet him in the kitchen. Derek gives them the highlights, but doesn’t elaborate too much since a wave of fatigue is catching up with him. He barely manages to shed his clothes before collapsing in his bed and sleeping straight through lunch.

The next thing he knows, Stiles is poking his head in the door. “Hey,” he says gently.

Derek opens his sleepy eyes. “Come on in.”

Stiles steps inside fully and perches on the edge of the mattress. “Smells like teen spirit,” he quips, eliciting a laugh from Derek. “I’m an expert, now that I’m officially a teenager, too.”

“What time is it?” Derek murmurs. It’s not that he can’t look for himself, but it feels a lot easier if Stiles just tells him.

“Almost two. Your mom said I could come up and check on you. I’m the guinea pig. She said if you’re grouchy, you’ll be the least grouchy to me.”

Derek stretches from the tips of his fingers through his toes. “Yeah. She knows me.”

“You can go back to sleep. I’ll pump you for all the details later.” Stiles gets up to pick Derek’s tuxedo off the floor, laying the clothes over Derek’s desk chair. He brushes a finger against the boutonniere pinned to the jacket lapel, admiring it. “Blue is just pretty.”

“Mmm, wait.” Derek’s pretty rumpled with spectacular bedhead, but he sits up. “Hand that to me.”

“This?” Stiles asks, passing the jacket over.

Derek unpins the blue flower and motions for Stiles to sit closer again. “Here,” he says, pinning it near the collar of Stiles’ plaid shirt. “Now you have a souvenir from prom.”

Stiles peers down at it, happily surprised. “I’m gonna wear this all day and see how long it takes my parents to say something. Or maybe they’ll just think, ‘our weird kid is being weird again.’”

The busy pattern of Stiles’ blue and green shirt mutes the obviousness of the boutonniere, but it’s still a three-dimensional object. “Blame genetics.”

“I’ll close the blinds more,” Stiles says, pulling on the strings to find a better angle. “So you get some more z’s. And I’ll come back after dinner. Only a few more months before your bird ass leaves this nest, so I gotta milk the time that’s left.”

Derek pulls the blankets up over his body again, smiling a little as he’s lulled back to sleep. Even though it’s exciting, it’s also getting sad, the more he realizes how much life is going to change once he goes to college. Prom is a classic, seminal event, but at the same time, it’s part of the end of an era. Everything’s going to be different soon.

Well - hopefully not everything.


End file.
